Bully
by Anonymity is crucial
Summary: It was supposed to be a normal day. Unfortunately, Peter's life tends to be the perfect example of Murphy's Law. A bullying victim wanting revenge on his tormentor paired with terrified classmates means Peter's going to do something stupid. (I swear it's better than the summary) Rated T for a reason. Read the first "chapter" for warnings. Peter Whump because I'm horrible.
1. Author's Note (Warnings)

**Hey my peeps. So, this story, it's a heavy one. I might switch the rating to M later on due to the implications and such within it. There are mentions of self-harm, bullying, death of loved ones, suicide, and suicidal thoughts/tendencies. I tell you this so those of you who, with any mention of any of this, or any sort of talk about it, will be triggered, can NOT read it.**

 **It's a harsh story, and I got the idea from the song Bully by Three Days Grace. I wanted to write it, and I'm sorry if it doesn't seem realistic. I don't know why I wanted to write it, or how it became so dark, but please let me know if I should change the rating to M for content because I'm a terrible judge at these things.**

 **I'm planning on continuing it, but if you guys have any ideas for further chapter(s) and reactions and such, let me know. I feel terrible writing this story, not sure why. It just, it was hard to write. There's so much emotion within the setting and so many feelings flying around that I hope I was able to get them all. I felt like crying when I wrote this, but I didn't because I'm a fucked up person who doesn't understand emotions, or know how to deal with them.**

 **I apologize for inaccuracies within the story, and feel free to leave criticism for me, but make sure it's helpful, and not just hurtful. Don't tell me what I did wrong, tell me what I could improve upon and how I could. I already know there's inconsistencies and spelling and grammar errors, so that I already know.**

 **As always, if you feel the need, please favorite, follow, and/or review. I love getting those notifications. It's lightens my day.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Peace.**

 **P.S. In this story, no one but Tony and Happy know that Peter is Spider-man, meaning that Ned doesn't know, and MJ doesn't know (but she's probably suspicious because who wouldn't be).**

 **P.P.S. I hope you read this, it's important.**


	2. Chapter 1

**I really, really, really hope you read the previous "chapter" because it was filled with the warnings and such for this.**

* * *

This was not how the day was supposed to go. Peter was supposed to get up, go to school, head home, go out as Spider-man, head home, go to sleep, and then start all over again. He was supposed to be chatting with MJ or Ned. He was supposed to be talking with Tony or Happy, well, having a one-sided conversation really, but still. He was supposed to be doing a lot of things, if the day had gone as planned. Instead, everything went to shit because apparently Peter's life was created based off of Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong, will.

In all honesty, he shouldn't have been surprised. He should have know that his day was going to go to shit the second he tripped and smashed his face against a wall upon waking up, giving himself a bloody nose. He was sore and aching from being Spider-man, and he couldn't even tell Ned or MJ because neither of them know. He should have know this day was going to suck because his Spidey Sense was nagging at the back of his skull the entire morning. It was humming and telling him something wasn't right, something was wrong. This Sense came in handy during fights, not so much on a day-to-day basis. Especially when Peter already has enough anxiety as is, and doesn't need another thing in his head telling him that he should flee and hide.

He should have known something was off the second he heard the scream.

It started off normally enough, the day at least. He got up and headed to school, sitting through two classes utterly bored because MJ was on a field trip with her Gov. class and Ned was home sick. So there Peter sat, tapping a pencil, staring at the board while his teacher droned on about symbols within literature, specifically Great Expectations, which they were supposed to be reading (Peter barely started it, getting about a chapter in before falling asleep). He wished Ned was there so he'd actually have someone to talk to, even though they'd always get in trouble for talking. Flash, meanwhile, was whispering something to some of his jock friends, which caused them all to snicker. Peter felt something hit his back, but refused to move.

"Mr. Thompson, if you and your friends would please pay attention, it would be greatly appreciated." The snickering stopped briefly until the teacher continued on with the lecture. The bell rang and Peter was never happier to leave a classroom. Grabbing a book from his locker, he trudged to math, one of his favorite classes, and right as he entered the classroom, close to when the bell would ring, was when the scream was heard. Most of his class was in the room already, including Flash again, but there were still multiple people wandering the halls because who cares right?

Peter, sitting near the door, in the front of the room to make him pay more attention after he continuously zoned out sitting near the back, watched as students began sprinting to their classes, some tripping and falling. That's when the announcement came on. Peter's Spidey Sense was now hammering his head and he was starting to freak out slightly.

"Attention all staff and students. We are currently on lockdown. Please resort to emergency procedures and remain calm. The situation will be resolved. We repeat, we are now on lockdown, please report to the nearest classroom and follow emergency protocol. Thank you."

The classroom was silent. Ms. Elis, the teacher, had covered the window of the door after shutting it and making sure it was locked, shutting off the lights right after. She shuffled the class to the corner farthest from the door, and told them all to hide behind the desks, staying hidden and silent. No one knew what to think. The only sounds heard were some people shuffling and whispering to one another, as well as a couple whimpers of fear. Peter's hairs were standing up and he felt the urge to sprint away and leave. Ever since he had a building dropped on him, being in a tight, enclosed space, with no true way out caused him to panic even more so than normal. His heart was pounding in his chest, and the sense in his head telling him that there was danger wasn't helping at all.

"Where's Allen, anyone seen Allen?" Peter recognized the person who spoke as a kid named Isaac, someone he hadn't actually spoken to before. Allen was another kid in their math class, someone whom Peter had never actually directly spoken to. He was just another one of the many kids in the school. Peter didn't even notice that Allen hadn't been in the classroom. Come to think of it, somehow, of the twenty-some kids in his class, only two were missing, and one was MJ and she was on a field trip. A pounding at the door startled many a person, causing a few to let out small squeaks of fear.

"G-guys please, let me in! Hello? Please, let me in, it's me, Allen, guys please," came a muffled cry along with more frantic pounding. Allen sounded frantic and panicked and Isaac immediately rushed over and unlocked the door before Ms. Elis could stop him. Allen stumbled in and the two shut and locked the door before wandering over to the group.

"What's going on out there?"

"Allen what's happening?"

"Yeah man, why are we locked down?"

Peter's sense was now a jackhammer, giving him a slight headache. Something didn't feel right. Something about the whole situation was off and he knew something bad was going to happen really soon. He just didn't know what. He saw Allen, freaked out as he was, slowly start to calm down, or at least Peter saw his tension slowly melting and his fear in his eyes turn into something different. Just because the lights were off didn't mean that the windows, though blinds closed, weren't still letting light stream in enough to see.

"Someone has a gun," came the simple reply and quite a few girls, and boys, gave slight gasps of shocks and a few more whimpered sobs were heard. Peter heard Allen's voice and there was something in it that made him think of it over and over. That's when it all clicked, but unfortunately it was too late.

Allen stood up and turned to face the group, pulling out a handgun with the safety off and finger near the trigger. Now there were surprised and terrified screams and cries, with a few people sobbing. Peter knew he saw Allen's behavior, and heard his tone before. He had heard it in the voice of a suicide bomber he managed to stop from killing hundreds in a crowded building. Unfortunately, he couldn't save the bomber herself. He'd seen the tension melt away from muggers right before they pulled the trigger, and see that same emotion shine in the eyes of people committing crimes. He should have know. He did know, he just didn't react in time, and now his whole class was hostage.

"Al-Allen, wh-what are you doing man? Come on, th-this isn't funny," Isaac said, fear showing through every word and movement he made. He gave a short screech of fear when Allen pointed the gun at his supposed friend.

"It's not supposed to be funny."

"Allen, this isn't you. Please, let's just talk about this," Ms. Elis tried, her voice wavering slightly, the calm tone she was going for broken by it.

"How do you know this isn't me? How do you know that it isn't," Allen exclaimed, turning the gun on her and walking closer, causing the students to shift away with terror-filled gasps and choked sobs. "This could be who I am for all you know."

"Allen, please don't do this. I have a fiancé, we have a baby boy, a few months old. Please Allen, don't."

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up shut up!" Small screams came from the group as Allen waved the gun at Ms. Elis and then at the group, causing them to whimper more. Peter watched as Ms. Elis pulled out her phone and tried to text someone something secretly, but Allen must have caught the glow of the screen because he stalked over to her and snatched it away violently.

"What were you trying to do?"

"N-nothing I swear."

"Nothing. Didn't look like it." Allen held the gun up to Ms. Elis' head, who started panicking, tears running down her cheeks. She looked at her students, eyes locking with Peter's for a second before a muffled shot rang out, causing everyone in the class to scream. Ms. Elis slumped down, eyes open and unseeing, blood pooling around her head. The gun was smoking and everyone was now freaking out even more than before.

"Wh-what do you, you want?"

"I want Flash. I want him to suffer like he's made me suffer. I want revenge for everything he's put me through since I've been in the same school as him."

"Why'd you kill her," came a soft, broken whisper.

"She was going to ruin my plan."

"They already know you're here."

"Not in this room. They have to search the school, and then rooms."

"But the shot-"

"Silencer, hard to hear if you're not near it." Soft cries were heard from the group. Peter looked to the corner, where Flash was hidden, shaking and crying silently, behind a few of his friends, a few of which looked like they were going to pass out or shit themselves, perhaps both. One of the jocks already passed out from the looks of it. Peter turned his attention back to the shooter.

"Where's Flash? I know he's here. We have the same class, and I know he's in this room." Flash's friends, despite acting tough, shuffled out of the way, shoving the bully forwards, with him ending up next to Peter.

"A-Allen, hey buddy."

"Don't 'hey buddy' me Thompson," Allen said, pointing a gun at him. Flash gave a girlish shriek and scrambled back slightly. Everyone was slowly making their way away from the shooter and towards the door, which was on the other side of the classroom. Allen didn't seem to notice, or care if he did. Peter remained though. He didn't have his suit, but he could at least try to reason with the attacker. Afterall, he'd been bullied by Flash too, maybe he could get through to Allen.

"Stand."

"Wha-what?"

"You heard me. Stand Thompson, or you'll end up like Ms. Elis." Flash slowly got on shaking legs and Peter glanced at the class, most of which were nearing the door and watching the scene play out. Peter saw Allen level the gun at Flash, who winced. The teen sighed before standing up and moving Flash behind him. He saw the class stare at him with wide eyes and Flash put a hand on his arm.

"What the hell are you doing Parker? Are you trying to die," Flash whispered to him, seeming somewhat concerned almost. Peter didn't move out of the way when Allen recovered from the unexpected move and leveled the gun again, this time at Peter. Peter stared down the kid.

"Move Peter, I don't want to hurt you."

"No."

"What did you just say?"

"I said no Allen. I get that Flash hurt you, but violence won't solve anything, trust me."

"Move, or I will shoot you Parker."

"Allen, listen to me, shooting Flash won't make what he's done to you go away. Nothing can take back beatings and harsh words. You can't get rid of the pain Flash has caused by getting rid of Flash."

"What do you know Parker? You're Mr. Perfect, the teacher's love you, you're top of our class, you have that fancy internship with Tony Stark. You have the life that most students here would want."

"Really? Would most students want only two friends? Or perhaps being bullied by Flash, someone who used to be my friend a long time ago? Maybe they want the grief of their parents dying and leaving them with their aunt and uncle, only to watch their uncle bleed out in their arms a few months ago, knowing they could have stopped it? Maybe they want the nightmares and anxiety and depression and all that shit that comes with it? So, I'd say, if someone wants my life, they can have it," Peter said, his voice raw with emotion. He ignored the stares he was getting and gave a small head nod, trying to tell the other classmates to scram while Allen was distracted.

Peter's words seemed to have some effect on Allen, who had partially lowered the gun, meaning it was now pointed at Peter's chest instead of his head. He was staring at the hidden superhero, seemingly trying to figure out if he was lying.

"I didn't know."

"I don't think anyone did. Allen, what do you say you give me the gun and we all walk out of here just fine. Can you do that, for me?" Allen seemed to think about it before steeling himself and putting the gun up to Peter's head level again. The brown-haired teen held his hands out instinctively. He heard Flash muffled a whimper behind him, the jock still holding tightly to Peter's arm for some reason.

"Everyone can go, but Flash stays."

"If Flash stays, I stay right here."

"The hell are you doing Parker? You can go, so go." Peter shook his head.

"I'm not going to."

"You really are an idiot."

"Exactly what you keep telling me everyday as he shove me against, or in, lockers."

"Sorry about that Parker."

"If you are going to go, I'd suggest you leave in the next few moments or else I might change my mind. Tell whoever is out there that if I hear or see one person coming in or near, I will not hesitate to kill both of them." With that, the class shot out of the room, the door slamming shut behind them, leaving only three living people in the room. Peter gulped and was somewhat regretting what the hell he was doing.

"I don't know why you're protecting this piece of shit Peter. He's hurt you too."

"I know, but just because he's an ass doesn't mean I want to see him get hurt or die."

"Move Parker, or I swear I will shoot you and him."

"Allen, listen to me, you have people who care about you."

"Al-Allen, please listen to Peter," came a voice from behind Allen. The shooter spun around and pointed the gun at Isaac who, for some reason, stayed behind. The person was unexpected and Allen reacted violently, shooting without realizing who it was at first. Isaac slumped to the ground, smearing blood on the wall, two holes in his chest. He let out a cough, blood spraying the floor and coating his lips, before he fell silent. The trio stared at the unmoving form with varying degrees of shock and sadness, Peter feeling extremely guilty for not noticing the boy. Allen started shaking and spun back around, pressing the gun to Peter's chest, anger seething from his pores.

"You made me do that Parker, you distracted me, you had me let them all go. I didn't know he was there, if no one left, I would have expected someone else in here. He's dead because of you!" Peter clenched his jaw, tears welling in his eyes as he saw the pain in Allen's.

"I know," Peter whispered, because that's all he could choke out. Allen looked a bit startled at the admission before the anger returned and he moved away from Peter, waving the gun around randomly.

"He was one of the only people who I'd call my friend. He was always nice to me, helped me up whenever Flash put me down." Allen sneered Flash's named with so much disdain that it made Peter flinch.

"I'm sorry Allen, I really am."

"I'm not, you were the one who shot him," Flash said, immediately slapping his hands over his mouth as Allen rounded and stalked back over to the pair. Peter shifted so he was still a barrier between the two and held his ground.

"I swear I will shoot Parker. Please don't make me hurt someone else," Allen said, tiredness seeping into his voice. Peter saw so much hurt behind his eyes, so much pain, and could completely empathize with that ache inside.

"If you want Flash, you'll have to shoot me." Allen looked like he might not, but then his eyes clouded over with that anger again and Peter knew he was screwed. All he could do was brace himself and shove Flash to the side so that if the bullet went through, it wouldn't hit him too.

It all happened fast. Peter heard the bullet leave the chamber and then the gun itself. In this time he spun, throwing Flash to the side, causing the bully to hit his head against a desk and fall unconscious. Turning slightly, Peter felt a pressure on his chest, left side, near his heart. With a grunt, Peter staggered backwards slightly, falling against a desk. The pain didn't hit him immediately, and he watched Allen stare at him in shock.

"Why did you throw him to the side? Why were you still trying to save him? Why would you chance dying?"

"Because no one deserves to lose somebody important to them," Peter replied and Allen looked confused. The pain hit Peter and the teen sank to the ground, holding the wound, which was bleeding profusely. Suddenly, Peter saw Allen's eyes widened and he muttered a string of curses before crouching in front of Peter, looking concerned.

"What, what do you mean? Shit, I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry Peter, it's just, it all got so out of hand, and I didn't, I just wanted it to stop, I just wanted the pain to stop," Allen said, tears streaming down his face. Peter's world was full of pain, but he tried to push it aside.

"I mean, I mean that Flash, he has family. He has parents who love him. He has people who care about him," Peter said, panting with effort. He was having trouble breathing and was pretty sure the bullet nicked a lung.

"You didn't want another family to feel the pain of losing someone close to them...because you've felt it before." Peter nodded, coughing and nearly blacking out from pain. He heard a groan from Flash as the bully slowly regained consciousness. Allen was still panicking.

"I screwed up Peter, I screwed up big time, I don't know, I don't know what to do, I'm sorry," Allen sobbed, standing and pacing before stopping, looking around at the bodies, alive or not, strewn on the floor. He then locked eyes with Peter and the teen saw exactly what Allen was thinking.

"Allen, don't, whatever you think you're doing, it's not going to solve anything, believe me, suicide isn't the answer," Peter begged, watching Allen hesitate placing a gun under his chin. "Allen please, just, we can talk, please, let's just talk," Peter said, tears falling from physical and emotional pain. He wanted to move, he really did, but when he tried, stars danced in his vision, so he remained sitting against a shelf, holding his chest, which was still bleeding heavily. Flash was now blinking and trying to regain his awareness.

"What do you know about pain Parker? You lost family members, so what? You're bullied, so was I? Do you know what it's like to lie awake at night and wonder why you're alive if your life is so shitty? Do you know what it's like to stare at a blade, trying to convince yourself that there's some good in your life, but failing? Do you know what it's like to cut, to burn, to want to die? Do you Parker?" Allen stared at the bleeding teen, who only stared back, giving a short nod. Allen blinked a few times, lowering the gun slightly. The shooter could see how haunted and old Peter looked, how he seemed to age so many years in just mere seconds.

"I know what it's like to feel like you're not worth it Allen, trust me, I do. I know what it's like to need an escape from the voices, where pain is the only thing that will take it away. I know what it's like to want to die Allen. I stood at the edge of a building, ready to fall, nothing to catch me. Then I thought of my aunt. I thought of Ned and MJ, my friends. I thought about how I might end up doing something good in the world at a later date that, if I jumped, wouldn't happen. I thought about how Tony Stark might think that I was a failure and possibly blame himself. I thought about all the people below who would have to deal with seeing a person splattered against the sidewalk and how that would affect them. I thought about everything good in the world, even the smallest things like puppies and flowers and the stars shining on a clear night when the lights aren't there to hide them away. I thought about how the breeze feels on a warm, spring day, or how the bees buzz, heading back home to their hives. I thought about the good in the world, and realized that things might get better if I give them time to try."

Allen stared at Peter for the longest time, as did Flash, who had regained his consciousness and awareness. Neither realized that Peter Parker felt that way, nor create such a picture with words. For a second, Peter thought he might have gotten through to Allen, but in the blink of an eye, the boy locked eyes with Peter, mouthed "I'm sorry", and brought the gun to under his chin. Flash looked away, but Peter just watched, screaming.

"Allen no!" Peter could only stare as Allen pulled the trigger, his body jerking backwards as he fell, the gun skidding away. There was no movement from the body. Peter just stared, not breathing, not moving at all. Flash was looking between Allen and the other teen before crawling over to the only other living person's side.

"Shit, Parker, shit," Flash said, taking in the wound on the teen's chest. Peter snapped out of his daze to look at Flash. "Why?"

"W-why what," Peter gasped out, the pain returning full force. He felt cold, strangely enough, and he was trembling. He knew he was probably going into shock, but he forced himself to stay somewhat coherent, even though it was probably going to be impossible to remain awake much longer.

"Why did you get shot to save me? Why did you stay? Why did you try to…." Peter rolled his eyes.

"I stayed because no one deserves to die."

"That includes you too Parker."

"I've done good in my life."

"Like what?" Peter wasn't fully aware anymore, in fact, he felt kind of drunk, even though he hadn't ever been drunk. His head lolled slightly, without him realizing it until Flash picked it back up and leaned him back against the shelves.

"I've helped people, people who otherwise wouldn't have been the same."

"How?"

"They were going to be killed or mugged or other….I stopped it." Peter knew he shouldn't be talking about what he does as Spider-man with Flash, but he was so tired and he was really thinking straight.

"Are you trying to get yourself kid Parker?"

"Maybe," he said honestly, not really sure anymore.

"Shit you're bleeding a lot. Help! Anybody out there?! I need some help in here!" Right as Flash shouted the last word, Peter felt his body start giving out and he heard the door burst open as well as people storming in. The last thing he remembers is being placed on a stretcher and blurry people talking.

After that, nothing.


	3. Chapter 2

May was at work when she got the phone call. She normally wouldn't answer her phone during a shift, but it was the school. Sighing, May answered, expecting to hear that Peter had ended up in the principal's office, or had gotten detention, or gotten into another fight with Flash, even though he insisted that he could take care of it himself. She froze as soon as the person on the other end told her that the school was on lockdown, and had been for a while. She dropped the phone as soon as they told her that there was an active shooter situation.

"May, are you alright," Quinn, one of her work friends, asked, gently handing her back the phone. May blinked, shaking her head rapidly.

"I have to...I got to go," she said, racing towards the doors and to her car, hearing Quinn calling after her, asking what was going on. She didn't care if she would get scolded for leaving, her boy was in trouble. It's quite possible she broke every single road law to get to Midtown faster. Upon arriving, she parked haphazardly in a spot and rushed to where the police had made a barricade of sorts to keep people from running into the school without realizing the danger, or caring because someone was in there. If an officer hadn't grabbed ahold of May, she probably would have hopped the barrier and sprinted into the school. It was a stupid plan, but her boy was in there, the only family she had left.

"My kid's in there," she shouted hysterically, tears running down her face as the officer maintained a hold on her.

"Hey, hey, listen, everything will be okay. What's your name?"

"May Parker. My kid, Peter, he's in there," May cried. The officer, Terrance, held May tightly and slowly moved her back away from the barriers, rubbing her back comfortingly. May looked into the woman's eyes, daring her to keep her away from Peter.

"Alright May, I can't let you in there. I'm sorry, I can't. What I can do is find Peter for you. Is that okay? Can you wait with everyone else and I promise that as long as you're safe behind here, I will do everything to make sure Peter is alright and will come home to you, okay? Can you stay here for me?" May felt like Officer Terrance was talking to a child, but she nodded anyways, wandering over to the crowd of anxious parents still waiting. She spotted Ned's mother, and Ned, and the three rushed to each other.

"Oh my god May! Do you know what's happening? They just sent out a message saying there was a lockdown, and a possible threat inside the school."

"Where's Peter? Is he okay? Do you know if he's okay?" May looked at Ned, who appeared sick, but was now freaking out because holy shit Peter was inside with a threat.

"There's an active shooter apparently," May said and just as Ned's mother was going to respond, the doors burst open with panicked kids streaming out. They were all in hysterics and the officers tried to corral them all. The grouping of parents rushed the students, trying to find their kid or kids. Some managed to locate them, most didn't. May spotted Remy, a kid in Peter's class whom Peter had tutored in Chemistry at a previous time. She wandered over to him and he just looked at her with wide, terrified eyes.

"Did you see Peter?" Remy nodded stiffly. "Is he-"

"He's okay."

"Where is he Remy?" All the kid could do was point back towards the school before he started sobbing and his parents lead him to one of the medics. May just stared at the building, lip quivering, eyes watering. May felt her phone buzz and saw that it was a text from Tony Stark. Apparently, a news crew was on the sight and was filming the chaos that was the school, but there was no information on why. May decided to call the man who treated Peter like his own son.

"Mr. Stark?"

 _"_ _Tony, please. May, what's happening? What's going on at the school? FRIDAY alerted me, in the middle of a meeting nonetheless, that Peter's school was on TV, and not for a good reason."_

"There's a situation," was all May could choke out, biting her lower lip to keep from sobbing.

 _"_ _What kind of situation? May, is everything okay? Is Peter alright?"_

"I don't know," she whispered and she could practically hear Tony freeze.

 _"_ _May…"_

"There's a shooter in the building."

 _"_ _I'll be there as soon as I can."_

"Don't blast in as Iron Man," May whisper-yelled at the billionaire.

 _"_ _Why not?"_

"It's delicate, the situation. Please Tony, just come as you, not as a hero."

 _"_ _I would never risk Peter's safety...Alright, I'll be there in five minutes."_ With that, the phone call ended and May was left standing, tears in her eyes, watching as SWAT slowly entered the building and began clearing classes out.

Tony wasn't sure what to think. All he saw was emergency crews racing around Peter's school and a group of parents huddled together, some holding sobbing students. With that, Tony could only assume the worst. Then May called and confirmed his fear. He left the building, ignoring the people calling after him, and jumped into his car, speeding towards the school.

Some people gaped at him, but most were still too shocked by the events happening in the high school to pay him any mind. He locked the car and rushed around, trying to spot May. He couldn't find her, but he saw Ned, who was visibly freaking out, and looking not quite healthy.

"Ned, hey, kid, where's May?"

"I-I don't know, she was over there, but Mr. Stark, why are you here?" Ned's eyes widened, his mind probably shifting towards the worst case scenario.

"Relax, kid, hey, I'm sure Peter'll be fine. I'm just here as me, not a hero. May said no," Tony said with a dry chuckle before Ned gripped his arm tightly and stared him directly in the eyes.

"I was supposed to be in there. If I wasn't sick today, I would have been in there with Peter. He's probably being an idiot... Please make sure he's okay Mr. Stark. Please," Ned begged. Tony pulled away from his grip and nodded before making his way towards where Ned said May had been. Spotting a familiar head of hair, Tony ran over and pulled her into a hug. The woman started crying, soaking Tony's suit jacket, but he didn't care.

"Tony, you came."

"Of course. Peter's important to me," Tony said, before freezing. He hadn't actually thought about what he just said, it just sort of happened. Thinking about it, he realized he really did care for Peter, and he realized just how important the kid was to him. May looked at him with tear-filled eyes and a trembling lip.

"You're important to him to. After Ben passed, he'd been so down in the dumps, getting into fights, letting his grades go, not sleeping, hardly eating. Then you showed up and he's been slowly getting better. He looks up to you Tony, and he was so heart-broken when he thought he disappointed you and lost the internship. He'll be so grateful to see you." Tony held May as she started crying again, blinking in surprise. He knew the kid looked up to him, but he never realized how much of an impact he had had on the kid. He was going to have a chat with Peter about his habits after this whole mess was sorted out and finished. Just as he was about to respond though, he heard a nearby officer's radio go off.

Tony and May both froze as they heard one of the SWAT calling for paramedics. There were three dead, another one critically wounded, and a fifth slightly injured. Tony and May looked at each other before Tony stalked over to the officer.

"What's going on in there?" The officer looked flustered.

"Mr. Stark! What-what are you doing here? What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what' happening in there."

"I'm sorry sir, I can't do that."

"I heard that there's three dead, one person critical, and another injured. You tell me something, is it over?" The officer looked conflicted, but asked if the identity of the shooter was confirmed. The radio crackled with the answer that yes, the shooter had been identified and was one of the deceased. Tony let out a breath of relief, but the knot in his stomach didn't go away. All of the students who had been in the building and were alive and well enough to walk were hugging their parents, or each other, crying with happiness of being out of the building. Tony, May, Ned, and Ned's mother looked at each other, and they waited.

None of them were prepared for someone on a stretcher to be wheeled out at high speeds, paramedics clamoring and scrambling around the person lying prone on the sheets. Everyone was watching, silent, as they loaded the person into the ambulance, the scream of a flatline tone sounding before the doors shut and the vehicle took off, sirens blaring, racing to the nearest hospital.

May had her hands over her mouth, sobs breaking through, muffled by Tony pulling her close to him. Tony was stoic, unmoving, and freaking out on the inside. He hoped to god that that wasn't Peter. He was also partially hoping it was because he wouldn't be able to handle it if Peter was one of the three dead, or if Peter was barely injured and another student was dying. The kid would be self-loathing and filled with guilt, probably thinking that it should have been him. Ned and his mother were both crying, Ned partially hyperventilating as the sirens faded into the distance. There was still silence, even more of it, as three more stretchers were rolled out of the doors, white sheets draped over them. They were loaded into their own vehicles, which then pulled away silently, no need for sirens.

The out walked Flash Thompson, white gauze on his head his, blood on his hands and clothes, shaking with every step. His parents ran over to him, his mother embracing him tightly. Then Flash saw the group of four. He pulled away and wandered over to them all, eyes wide when he noticed Tony Stark standing, hugging a sobbing May, who turned to look at him.

"Peter?" Flash looked at his hands and shook his head.

"I tried to stop the bleeding."

"Is he-"

"Close," Flash mumbled before walking back over to his parents. The group was not reassured in the least. Officer Terrance walked over, face solem. She put a hand on May's shoulder to get the woman's attention before placing her hands on her belt.

"Peter's alive." May gave a sob of relief.

"But?" The officer fidgeted in her place, shifting from one foot to the other.

"They're bringing him to Queen's Memorial. I'll get you an escort if you want." Tony nodded stiffly, and as officer Terrance was calling for an escort, Tony led the group to his car, which thankfully had more than two seats. As soon as the police came, Tony started the car and the group shot towards the hospital, everyone going through a range of emotions.

"He'll be okay, he's a strong kid."

"I know, I really hope he'll be okay."

"May, I promise that he'll be okay." May turned to Tony with fire in her eyes.

"Don't make promises you know you can't keep Stark," she seethed.

Silence echoed in the car, broken only by the sounds of the sirens leading the way.


	4. Chapter 3

**FYI, I have zero medical knowledge and therefore this is going to be interesting….**

Tony, May, and Ned shot out of the car, Ned's mother having bid her son and the other two a fast ride towards the hospital, while they were still in the parking lot. She decided that, while she loved Peter like her own, Ned would tell her exactly what was going on, meaning she could deal with the other stuff happening.

The trio rushed into the waiting room, Tony stomping over to the reception desk and demanding to know where Peter Parker was. The poor nurse looked absolutely flustered, stuttering and accidentally tossing a pen across the desk in surprise and nervousness. It wasn't every day that The Tony Stark comes up and asks something of you. She stammered out that only family was allowed to know about his condition, which caused Tony to huff, but May to stomp over as well.

"I'm his family, and so is Tony, and so is Ned here, so why don't you tell us what exactly is going on hmm," May spoke, venom leaking into her voice even though she didn't mean for it to. Upon seeing the girl go pale and still, she uttered a quick apology, adding a please to the end of it. The nurse nodded, typing something into the computer before pursing her lips.

"It, it says here that Peter Parker is currently in surgery."

"When will he be out," Tony demanded, causing the nurse to let out a slight squeak of shock at the sudden voice.

"I'm, I don't, I'm not sure. It might be a while so you can wait here and I'll let a doctor know where you are," she said, confidence slowly returning to her voice. Tony muttered something under his breath before walking away, leaving May to apologize profusely for the behavior and distress caused before she too, arm around Ned's shoulders, walked towards the chairs nearby.

Surprisingly, there weren't that many people there, though it was probably a good thing in all honesty because it meant that people were somewhat safe. Tony was pacing back and forth, looking at the seven people sitting down. There was a mother, father, and young son who looked immensely worried, probably about a child. There was another man, older, who looked haunted by what he had seen in his years past, as well as a young couple looking anxious, one of the males bouncing his leg while his boyfriend played with the hem of his shirt, while holding the hand of his partner.

The seventh person in the room was a younger boy, maybe thirteen at the oldest, so not too young, but still too young to be sitting alone like he was. This kid, Tony noticed, looked aged beyond his years, thumbs twiddling in his lap, a foot tapping the floor silently. His eyes would dart around the room, then towards the hallway leading towards the rest of the hospital for a minute or so before landing on the floor. The pattern would repeat over and over, Tony noticed, as he continued his own pattern of pacing anxiously.

Footsteps sounded, causing everyone in the waiting room to look up. A name was called, it wasn't for Tony, May, or Ned. It was for the mother, father, and young son. They stood, the father carrying the toddler, and walked over to the doctor waiting. Said doctor's face was grim and Tony knew that it probably wasn't good news. He could guess what the doctor was saying and he watched the family's hearts shatter as the doctor muttered that he was so so sorry. The mother cried out as if in physical pain before collapsing to the floor, head in her hands. The father's face was scrunch up, appearing as though he was trying to not cry, before he too fell to the floor, hugging his wife to him, as well as his son, who was crying, probably because his parents were.

May felt tears in her eyes and she hugged Ned to her, who also looked teary eyed. The large boy sniffed, hugging May back and Tony just stood, jaw clenched, feeling sadness enter his chest. The others in the room all looked stricken with the same sympathetic tears that the trio felt.

"That could be us." Tony turned to face May, who looked horrified and terrified. "That, that could be me on the floor, if Peter, if he doesn't, he can't Tony, he can't," May cried out, burying her face in her hands as Tony sat beside her on the loveseat, pulling her into him. Ned was still watching the family, sobbing on the floor because their son or daughter, or whoever didn't make it.

"Peter's a tough kid, I'm sure he's fine. I mean, we don't even know what happened. It could have been worse for all we know. Maybe it was just a minor wound, in an injury sort of way," Tony said before May pulled away from him and looked at him like he just confessed to murdering five people for fun. "What, wrong thing to say?"

"Yes! Tony, he could be dying, he did die in the ambulance! Everyone heard the flatline! He's not okay Tony, you don't know if he'll make it," May sobbed and Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, watching as the mother was placed in a wheelchair, still crying, as the family was then shuffled off into the depths of the building, probably to say goodbye. He really hoped that it wouldn't come down to it for their little hodge-podge family.

"Peter's a strong kid. If anyone could make it, it's him." The trio lapsed into tense silence, broken only by the sniffles of Ned and May as they tried to hold it together. The waiting room slowly lost it's occupants, the old man leaving sorrowfully as a doctor gave him a shake of his head. The couple waiting kissed each other with happiness, tears streaming down their faces as they were led, hand in hand, towards something great waiting for them deeper within the hospital. All that was left was the three who arrived at the same time, and the boy, who looked even more distraught as time passed.

Eventually, another doctor appeared, calling for the child. He stood slowly and wandered, head down, towards the man. The doctor stood beside him, a serious expression on his face. Then a pause and May watched a smile spread across the doctor's face as he told the boy something. The child gave a laugh of disbelief and hugged the doctor tightly, the adult laughing at the antics. The trio could hear the boy's chorus of thanks as the doctor slowly untangled himself from the boy and they both wandered down the hallway again, the child skipping happily along, laughter echoing down the sharp, brightly lit corridor.

"And now it's three," Tony muttered to himself. They waited, and waited, and waited, and waited for what felt like years. Tony looked at the time at one point, noticing that it had been at least four hours since they arrived. They waited, and waited, and waited well past that point. A few times the nurse that Tony terrified came over to give them updates, telling them that Peter was still in surgery, but it was going well. That was all they got, just that he was still in surgery, but it was going well. May was sick and tired of hearing that he was still in surgery, but everything was going well. She nearly clobbered the girl the third time she came over, causing the girl to not give them an update for another two and a half hours, and that was only after Tony asked for one.

They continued their wait, rotating between sitting, wandering, pacing, standing, lying, and sitting in random positions in the chair he was in in Ned's case. Tony was pacing, May was curled up to one side of the loveseat, staring at the floor, and Ned was, well, he was actually sitting normally when the nurse came over.

"If you tell us he's still in surgery and everything's going good and nothing more I swear to God I will," May said, her nerves fired and her control shot. Tony slowly moved between her and the nurse, who merely nodded and left quickly, giving them all their answer. They had been waiting in that area for seven hours when a doctor finally arrived. None of them noticed the woman at first, not until she called for them.

"Family of Peter Parker?" The trio's heads all shot up and they all raced towards the woman, but were stopped when she approached them instead. They all sat, Tony and May on the loveseat and Ned in the chair nearby. The doctor looked skeptical. "You're all family of Peter Parker?"

"Not by blood, but in every way that counts," May said, daring the doctor to say otherwise. The woman, for her part, merely shrugged and sat across from them.

"My name is Dr. Orrow, and I was Peter's surgeon."

"What happened Doc, is he going to be okay? Please tell me Peter's going to be okay," Ned pleaded, held back slightly by May grabbing his arm.

"Peter is alive, but his condition is critical and he isn't out of the woods yet. He was shot and the bullet entered around his left side, fifth rib, hitting it and causing the bone to splinter as well as disrupt the trajectory of the bullet. If the bullet hadn't hit the rib and was slight higher, it would have gone straight into his heart, possibly shredding it beyond repair, killing him. It was lucky that the bullet was wear it was because otherwise, I don't think Peter would be alive right now.

The bullet, as I mentioned, ricocheted away from the heart, just barely missing it by a micrometer, but unfortunately got lodged between his T5 and T6 vertebrae of his spine. Some of the pieces of rib did make their way towards the heart, a few piercing it, but only in the slightest so it was easily repaired. One of the piece, however, did puncture his lung, causing a pneumothorax, or collapsed lung. These pieces and collapsed lung were what caused the flatline in the ambulance ride here.

I would love to say that's where it ends, but unfortunately, Peter coded twice more on the table due to a combination of shock, blood loss, and strain on the heart. We brought him back both times within a short window of time, but there is still a possibility of damage that we can't assess until he wakes up. His heart, ribs, and lung were all repaired without any major problems, but the bullet and his spine is where it became more difficult."

"Is he, is Peter-"

"We can't be certain if he is paralyzed until he wakes up, but I'm afraid it is a possibility. Injuries to the thoracic spine can result in paraplegia, or loss of use in the lower half of one's body. It was a difficult process, removing the bullet safely and carefully, and luckily we had one of our best orthopedic surgeons on duty tonight who was able to remove the bullet with little damage done. We aren't sure if there is any nerve damage, and it is possible that he may not feel his lower half immediately upon waking up, but until about a week or so after he does wake up, which should be in a few days, we won't know if it is due to nerve damage, or just swelling from the surgery, which happens and terrifies people.

It's normal though. He is currently in an induced coma in order to help him heal, and on a ventilator to allow his lung to heal somewhat without being forced to move on its own and strain itself. As I mentioned previously, he isn't out of the woods yet and he is in critical condition, but currently, I feel he has a good chance of being alright. He's a strong kid, not everyone can come back from the dead once, let alone three times and still be as healthy as he seems. I say healthy including his injury because I have gunshot wounds in my day, hell I was a resident in downtown Chicago so gunshot and stab wounds were a common thing. Even here, it's not totally uncommon, but my point with this is that for someone with a very serious wound such as Peter's, he's doing amazingly."

"Thank you Dr. Orrow," May said, tears trickling down her cheeks. Orrow smiled kindly before standing up.

"Please, call me Rita. I can take you to see him, but I'm going to have to keep you out of the room he's in, just for today. It's past visiting hours, but I think I can make an exception. Now, if you don't mind me asking, how exactly did Peter get shot?" Tony looked up and noticed that there was a news report on the TV talking about the shooting.

"It's on the news," Tony said, unmuting the TV and turning up the volume.

"Earlier today, Midtown High School of Science and Technology suffered a terrible shock when one of their own turned against them. Police and Fire rescue were called to the school, which was under threat from a, at the time, unidentified shooter. Sources tell us that the shooter was a Junior, Allen Vayor. From what we are told, there was a hostage situation between Mr. Vayor and his apparent bully Mr. Eugene "Flash" Thompson. Mr. Vayor was apparently holding Mr. Thompson hostage, threatening to shoot him and kill him. From what we gathered, there were two other in the room, Isaac Racey, another junior, and Peter Parker, a sophomore. Witnesses say that Mr. Parker stood between Mr. Vayor and Mr. Thompson in an attempt to prevent anyone from being injured. Unfortunately, there were three casualties and one critically wounded. Mrs. Lisa Elis, a math teacher at Midtown, Mr. Isaac Racey, and Mr. Allen Vayor were announced deceased upon arrival, and Mr. Peter Parker was gravely injured while, from what we here, saving Mr. Thompson's life. More details on this story later tonight."

The group just stared at the TV, and Tony noticed the gathering of people around the area, watching the news story unfold. May had fresh tears in her eyes, but from pride that filled her, as well as the sadness inside. She had a watery smile on her face as she wiped tears away. Tony nodded, feeling something eating at him. The kid was too heroic for his own good. Ned just stared, captivated. His best friend saved his tormentor, and took a bullet to the chest. He was a hero! Like Spider-man! Ned, though amazed by his friend, was going to tear said friend a new one for being so reckless.

"He saved someone's life," Rita said, turning towards May, a soft smile gracing her lips. She placed a hand on May's shoulder. "You should be so very proud of him."

"I am, and if he wasn't already in the hospital I'd probably put him in one for being so reckless," May muttered angrily, but her happiness that he was alive, and he saved someone's life, possibly more than one, shone through, bringing the sting from the words.

"Peter's a hero, my best friend's a hero," Ned exclaimed as the trio was led towards Peter's room. Tony fell behind, shaking his head.

If only he knew.


	5. Chapter 4

**Alright, this one's a shorty, but that's why it's a double update today. This is just to address something (that I honestly kind of didn't realize until brought up) that should have been.**

* * *

The doctor had led the group to Peter's room, and allowed them some time, but just before Rita left, she pulled Tony off to the side, a curious expression on her face.

"Is there something that I should know about Peter here?" Tony looked at her, extremely confused.

"What do you mean," the man responded and Rita raised an eyebrow.

"I think I managed to dissuade any others who noticed, but I sure as hell didn't make myself believe what I told the others working on Peter."

"Still not following."

"Peter Parker's healing is off the charts."

"Shit," Tony muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Mr. Stark, I know that children heal faster than adults, when in good health of course, but Peter's, well, the speed his system works is superhuman. It wasn't entirely noticeable, so I don't think many of the nurses, or the other surgeon, noticed, or if they did, they didn't mention it. There were at least two whom asked if I noticed how Peter was able to somehow remain living after losing, and pardon my language here, a shit ton of blood as well as having shrapnel lodged into his heart and dying not once, but three times. I just brushed them off with a made up excuse, which they seemed to by, but I don't."

"I mean, you said it yourself, Peter's a healthy kid, and he's a kid, so he just heals faster than others I guess. There's nothing strange about that at all."

"It made me think though," Rita said softly, pulling Tony further away from prying ears, which caused the billionaire to become tense. "Peter's 'healing factor' being enhanced and also the amount of muscle on his body, well, it reminded me of Steve Rogers' whole super soldier serum and such. Then, and I believe it's just me, I saw you waiting out here, Tony Stark, billionaire genius, looking for a random fifteen year old kid who happened to be shot. At the time, I wasn't necessarily thinking, but now, now I remember how that Spider-man character showed up like a myth, in a god awful outfit, and suddenly, he has a brand new looking suit and has been seen palling around with none other than Iron Man. Don't get me wrong, but the way people describe that Spider guy make it sound like he's either a small, immature adult, or a kid. It isn't that hard to put two and two together."

All Tony could do was stare at the doctor. She knew who Peter was, but she was apparantly trying to keep it on the down low. The problem Tony saw was that she knew who Spider-man is, and she knew who Peter's family was. Plus, she might not be the only one who could make the connection, or she could accidentally let it slip who he is. This was not good. Tony looked around, grabbed Rita's arm, and pulled her into a nearby, empty room, shutting the door with a click.

"Alright, fine, I would try to deny it, but I doubt you'd believe me. Yes, Peter is Spider-man, but now that you know, this creates a problem."

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

"It depends," Tony deadpanned, causing Rita to roll her eyes. She'd been a doctor for well over forty years now, not counting the years she spent as a resident in Chicago. She had been threatened many a time.

"Look, I get the whole deal of threats, and I know yours probably has some truth behind it, but if you want, I can sign an NDA if you want me too, or mind wipe me, or whatever. I promise I won't tell a soul about this. It was purely accidental that I figured it out. You know what they say about the brain making strange connections," Rita said, trying to assure Tony that she didn't mean harm. The billionaire pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

"Look, I trust that you'd keep this contained. For now, let's forget you know anything. Also, is there a more private wing where the kid could be, you know, so he doesn't start freaking out about this whole thing, and if he does, he doesn't make a big scene. That and I have a feeling that the press will be showing up at some point, wanting to get a statement from the 'hero'." Rita nodded.

"My lips are sealed. As for the whole privacy situation, I think I can manage something. After all, he is a hero, in more ways than one, it's just no one knows."

"I'm the only one, besides you and one other, who know exactly who that kid is in there."

"Not even-"

"Not even his aunt, that's May Parker, or Ned, his friend, know."

"Wow, that's, I wouldn't be able to keep it a secret from my family if that was me. Hell, I'd have trouble keeping it a secret from anyone! I'd probably walk over to some stranger, start a conversation, and blurt out, 'hey, did you know I'm that Spider guy!' I don't know how he does it."

"Honestly, I'm not really sure myself."

"What do you mean?"

"Kid's a terrible liar."


	6. Chapter 5

Tony was right. Press started showing up the next day, right as visiting hours began. Tony had sent Ned home with a promise that he would pick him up and bring him to the hospital again, when he didn't look ready to keel over. Ned was forced to wait outside the room because he was sick and could compromise Peter getting better, which the boy paled at thinking about. He was a big ball of anxious sickness who looked ready to pass out, so Tony sent him home.

May was also sent home, but Tony accompanied her home with the promise that someone would be with Peter. Happy happened to be that someone. Despite the man's apparent dislike of the teen, Happy did care for Peter and didn't want to see him hurt, so he promised to make sure the kid was okay while Tony and May went back to the apartment briefly.

"I can't believe that Peter was shot," May blurted out, having taken a shower, changed clothes, and currently was making some tea. Tony glanced at her from the couch where he was told to sit. May brought the two mugs over, handing one to Tony, who took it with a thank you. "It's lavender and chamomile, along with some cinnamon. Peter loves tea, despite what he may say. This blend always calms him down, that or Valerian Root, but that's more of a sleep inducing tea. He's always messing around, trying out different types, seeing what he feel like after, what tastes the best, which teas for which moods, all that stuff. You'd think he's an expert herbalist or something," May chuckled, nostalgia dripping from her words.

Tony watched as she swirled the liquid around, staring at it with a soft smile. She took a hesitant sip before placing it back into her lap, both hands clutching the pale green mug. Tony thought she might have zoned out, but then she sniffed and looked up at Tony, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She gave a soft laugh, running a hand over her face, trying to wipe the tears away.

"Sorry, it's just, Peter's usually the one I have tea with. I'll wake up to the sound of the kettle going off and find his sitting in the middle of the floor, legs crossed, slowly sipping on some random brew of tea. It'd be four in the morning, or two in the morning, or the middle of the night, or whenever he should be sleeping, I should be sleeping, and I'll find him on the floor, mug in hands. I never know why I'd find him like that. Sometimes I smell the chamomile or valerian root and know he's having trouble sleeping, or I'll smell mint and wonder if he's feeling alright. I can usually tell the mood or feeling by the smell of the tea. He never talks, just sips his tea. It's become so common nowadays, this blend with some Valerian root mixed in, that he'll make a second mug for me in anticipation for me hearing the kettle. I miss him Tony," May said softly and Tony could only frown, taking another sip of the mix. It was interesting, and he couldn't decide if he liked it or not. He was more of a coffee person himself, but this tea had meaning behind it.

"He's still here May, he's not gone."

"But he was almost. He almost died, he did die. I could have lost Peter yesterday, he could have," May stuttered, tears falling hard and fast. Tony grabbed her mug from her hands, setting both pieces of ceramic down on the coffee table, before pulling May towards him. He had given so much physical affection out in the past two days, it was astonishing. "It was just like Ben," May whispered and Tony froze in shock. He had forgotten about Peter's uncle, May's husband. He had known he had died, but he had forgotten how. He forgot that the articles he read and reports he saw stated that Ben Parker died from a gunshot wound to the chest, trying to prevent a carjacking or something like that. With that, he completely forgot that Peter was there. He made a mental note to discuss that with the kid.

"But he didn't. He saved lives, and he's still with us. Peter's a strong kid, and he's going to pull through."

"You don't know that. I want him to, with all my heart, and I'd give up everything for him to pull through, but you can't be sure."

"No, but from what I hear from Rita, and from the nurses, and from Happy, who is currently watching him, the kid's improving by the hour. He'll pull through, and then I'll kill him myself for getting shot." May smacked him lightly on the arm, a scowl on her face that held no fire because of the tears and smile hidden behind.

"Tony Stark, you are not allowed to kill my nephew. Only I'm allowed to do that," she added to her statement with a smirk. The two laughed lightly, picking up their mugs once again. The two continued talking, regaling stories of Peter while finishing their tea. Once the mugs were emptied, cleaned, dried, and put away, May demanded she be brought back to the hospital. It was a few minutes after visiting hours began when they arrived.

The first thing Tony saw upon entering was the grouping of reporters and cameras hanging around the desk. The next thing he noticed was that the main name that he kept hearing was Peter. The final thing he noticed before everything went to shit was one of the reports shouting Tony's name, causing them to swarm him. He carefully shifted May away from the grouping, her with a hood pulled over her head, and allowed her to shuffle past the group and towards Peter's, more secured, room. Luckily, none of the reporters noticed, only the nurse at the station who looked relieved that Tony was distracting them. She sent him a glance that read 'thank you' before Tony was surrounded.

"Mr. Stark, what brings you to Queen's Memorial? Are you here to see Peter Parker? Is our source correct when we say that Peter is your intern? Mr. Stark, what are your thoughts about what happened at Midtown High?" The questions were thrown around, and though Tony's anxiety was flaring up, he plastered on a smile, waving for them all to quiet down so he could answer.

"Mr. Parker is my intern, that is correct. He has been, and will continue to be my intern for the foreseeable future. I am here to check on his condition and to see how his friends and family are faring. I want to know if there's anything I can do for them in this trying time. I pose this question to all those affected by the tragedy that occurred at Midtown High, if there is anything I can do, I will try my best to do it. It was a terrible thing that happened, and for a tragic reason. Bullying is not taken very seriously within schools. Speeches are given, statements are said, words are passed around about how it will not be tolerated, but as we can all see, it is very much a problem. I'm just saddened that it took three, almost four, lives for us all to see this. That's all," Tony said, pushing past quickly, not giving the swarm a chance to react properly.

By the time the group of reporters did react, they were too late. Tony was already walking quickly down the hallway and security had been called. They formed a barrier in front of the path, not letting any cameras or anything past. The nurse behind the desk rolled her eyes when they decided that, since they weren't getting past the security officers, they could always hound the lady at the front desk.

"What information can you give us about Mr. Parker's condition? Is Mr. Stark truly here because Mr. Parker is his intern, or is it something else? Do you have any details you can give us about what happened at the school?"

"Are any of you family members of Peter Parker?" Silence fell over the group as they all looked at the nurse, who looked both threatening and innocent at the same time. "Sorry, I'll repeat, are any of you related to, or family members of, Peter Parker?"

"No, but-"

"Then I'm afraid I can't disclose any information about the patient's condition."

"Why not?"

"Because only family members are allowed to know about a patient's condition, and seeing as none of you are Mr. Parker's family, I cannot legally give you that information, even if I wanted to, which I don't."

"But Mr. Stark was allowed back."

"He is considered family by Mr. Parker's guardian. He is not blood-related, so do not make that a story, but according to Mr. Parker's guardian, he is considered family by the teen. So, if you'd be so kind as to leave this hospital, I would appreciate that."

"Can you at least tell us if he's going to make it," one of the reporters asked, seemingly desperate. The nurse looked at the man, who looked fresh out of college and brand new to the gig. She really didn't want to give anything out about Peter, he seemed like a great kid from what she has heard, but the reporter seemed so nervous, and the way the other, more experienced reporters were looking at him with disgust and annoyance made up her mind. She looked the reporter in the eyes and grabbed the recorder he held in his hands.

"I am not allowed to give out any details about Mr. Parker's condition, but I am allowed to tell you that yes, he is going to make it. Now get out of my hospital," she said sternly, clicking off the recorder and tossing it back to the newbie, who quickly shuffled away, followed slowly by the other, grumbling reporters. Smiling to herself, she mentally patted herself on the back as they left the building, the doors sliding shut behind them.

"I bet that felt good," one of the guards said with a chuckle.

"You have no idea."


	7. Chapter 6

**HAHAHA PSYCH! I GOT CHA! It's actually an unplanned triple update…..(I'm not kidding, I even got myself, this was not planned, it never is, I'm a terrible human being….)**

* * *

It took Peter a week to wake up. They took him off the ventilator after two days, and by they, that means Rita and a nurse who was not allowed to know the full extent of Peter's injuries. Normally, a person with his injury wouldn't be alive, and if they were, would either be a vegetable, or not even close to being off the ventilator and waking up, meaning no one who had any sort of knowledge of the full extent of Peter's injuries could know how fast he was healing.

Speaking of healing, the external injuries healed within five days, fully healed, leaving only puckered flesh where the bullet entered, and some scars from where he had to be opened up in order to properly repair the internal injuries. Internally, he was nearly healed, but the shatter rib and damaged lung and heart needed a bit more time to be 100 percent, which was understandable. Neither May nor Ned knew that Peter was almost fully healed already, and they couldn't, because anyone with half a brain could guess that there was no way a normal human could heal completely after a week or two, especially from a gunshot wound like Peter's. This meant only Tony, Rita, and Happy knew.

Ned was allowed back on day three, when he was no longer sick and contagious. He and May rarely left the room, and when one would, the other would stay. Tony pretty much remained in the room as well, only leaving to make some calls or deal with something happening. On the fifth day, he was called away for a mission, and on the night before he woke up, he arrived at the hospital, exhausted, but determined to see Peter.

He noted that both May and Ned were either asleep, or very close to it, and looked like they hadn't left the hospital in days, which they might not have. So, he convinced Ned, who was barely awake, to follow Happy, who was wheeling a sleeping May to a car to take both home for some proper food, rest, and showers. This meant that Tony was left alone, after visiting hours, hoping that Peter would wake up soon. As soon as he sat in the chair he pulled up beside Peter's bed, he nodded off, head lolling back and arm dangling over the arm of the chair.

He woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping frantically. It wasn't even a gentle wake-up, it was more of a sudden jolt of panic upon hearing the steady beeping become ecstatic. Tony opened his eyes, wiping away the sleep as he saw Peter looking around, eyes wide, panic on his face. He locked eyes with Tony, freezing.

"Kid, hey, you're okay, listen to me, you're fine. You're in a hospital, you were shot, do you remember?" Peter nodded slowly, slowly leaning back against the bed, which was raised to allow Peter to sit up at an angle. The beeping was slowly coming back down to a manageable rate and Tony leaned forward, holding Peter's hands down so he couldn't continue picking at the tape that held the IV's in his arms.

"Dry," was all Peter could choke out, and it was more of a pitiful croaking sound than a word. Rita walked in a second after, a cup of ice chips in her hand. She handed it to Peter, who took a few in his mouth, smiling gratefully at the doctor before his face fell into it's panicked look again.

"Tony, does she, do they, Tony please, what, did they," Peter stammered, unconsciously distancing himself from Rita and shifting towards Tony, who was a bit shocked by the fact that the kid called him Tony, before he realized what Peter was trying to say.

"Kid, listen, Rita knows about the whole web design thing. She signed an NDA though, nondisclosure agreement. That and she's now one of the SHIELD approved surgeons, and a good one at that. No one else knows, and they won't know. We're going to be doing some interesting playing around for the next month or so." Peter looked at Tony strangely. Rita decided to answer.

"Since your healing factor is so enhanced, your wound has already healed itself externally, and it's almost healed internally as well. There's something I want to check on, a couple things really, but that can wait. If you didn't heal like you do, you'd be dead. There was a very minimal chance that you would survive if you didn't heal as fast as you do. Even if you happened to remain alive, you'd most likely still be unconscious and healing, and definitely not as lucid and healed as you are. Now, I can pass the waking up part off as something incredibly unlikely to happen, along with how miraculous your survival was of the wound you received, but the fact that you're already mostly healed, not so much. This means that you're going to have to pretend that you're still injured for a while, until I deem you 'fit' and 'healed'. I hope you can do that, but from what I hear, you're a terrible liar. If necessary, I can always somehow drug you unconscious again, making it last a bit longer, but I'd rather not." Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes. The man merely shrugged and Peter groaned, putting his hands on his face.

"You're the one who wanted to play hero kid, can't blame us," Tony said, raising his hands in surrender when Peter gave him a murderous glare. "Speaking of playing hero, don't do that again. If you do, I swear to God I will murder you myself, or your aunt will. Seriously, do not piss that woman off, she's terrifying, almost as terrifying as Pepper," Tony said with a cringe, causing Peter to roll his eyes and give a soft chuckle before staring at his hands, which were resting in his lap.

"There are a few things I need to determine before I head out, okay Peter?" Peter looked at his surgeon and nodded. "Well, first of all, when the bullet entered your chest, it hit your rib, causing it to splinter and shatter, some of the pieces entering you heart and lung. Your lung collapsed, but we were able to get all of the pieces out of both your lung and heart, both of which are almost healed. The bullet, while kept from your heart thankfully, managed to get lodged between your T5 and T6 vertebrae of your spinal column." Peter's eyes widened again as he looked between the doctor and Tony.

"What?"

"I'm going to ask you to close your eyes and turn your head towards the ceiling so you can't see what I'm doing or when I'm doing it. I just want you to tell me if you feel something." Peter nodded, doing as Rita asked. There was tense silence as Rita ran a tool, something that looked like a pen, but with a poky wheel at the end, along the bottom of Peter's foot. For a moment, Tony nearly flipped out, but then as Rita moved the tool a little further up the kid's leg, Peter gave a happy mutter of he could feel something. Rita moved from the right side to the left, doing the same process. It took until a little farther up, a little below his left knee, before he acknowledged feeling something.

"I thought I could feel something on the bottom of my feet, but it wasn't really anything until further up," Peter admitted, looking utterly relieved, but also terrified at the same time. "Does that mean I'm not going to be able to walk again?" Rita pursed her lips, putting the tool away.

"It's actually a good sign that you can feel anything below your waist. The fact that you thought you could feel something at the bottom of your feet, even though you didn't know I was touching there, gives me hope that you will be able to walk again. It's possible there's swelling around your spine, causing partial paralysis that could clear up, but even if it doesn't, with your healing and the fact that you can still feel your legs and feet gives me hope that you will be able to get back on your feet again. I will do everything I can to help."

"Thank you," Peter said, feeling extremely drained, mentally and emotionally. He was freaking out as soon as she mentioned his spine being injured, but knowing he can feel below his waist, no matter how slight the feeling was, allowed him a breath of relief.

"I also want to check on your memory, just as a slight precaution. Any patient that's unconscious for an extended amount of time needs to be checked over memory wise."

"I can remember things just fine Ms. Doctor lady, I'm alright."

"You can call me Dr. Orrow, hon, or Rita if you wish. I trust that you memory is fine, so I'll skip over those questions and such. Tell me, how many fingers?"

"Three."

"Alright, can you follow my finger with only your eyes?" Peter did so with no problem. Rita took out a penlight and clicked it on.

"Okay. I'm just going to take a quick look in your eyes," Rita said, shining the light in the teen's eyes, causing the boy to flinch slightly at the brightness. Peter blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his eyes once the doc finished her exam.

"Well Peter, I can't see anything wrong with your memory or eyes. Your ears seem to be working alright, and you can speak. I wasn't too concerned about any of that, but it's a standard thing to do." Peter gave her a smile before he looked at Tony, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Peter's gaze drifted to his twiddling thumbs and Rita nodded slightly, knowing that there was something unspoken drifting about the room.

"I'll give you two some space and let you know when your aunt and friend return, just in case." With that Rita left, shutting the door, leaving the two in silence.

"What were you thinking kid?"

"I was trying to keep Allen from making a mistake," Peter mumbled. "Load of good that did," he said quietly, mentally curling in one himself, and doing it somewhat physically as well, hugging himself tightly. "Now three people are dead." Tony raised an eyebrow at the kid's way of saying it.

"Peter, listen, as much as I hate the fact you decided to play hero without Spidey, you saved lives kid. Who knows what Allen would have done if you had allowed that kid, Flash was it, to be shot? Who knows what he would have done if you hadn't gotten in his way? You saved at least one life kid, you're a hero."

"I was a hero."

"Yeah, but now Peter Parker is a hero. I mean, the press have been trying to get information on you since you were brought in. They were banned from the hospital, but they keep trying to get in. Whether you like it or not, you're in the spotlight right now." Peter groaned, leaning back.

"Why?" Tony furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why? That's what you're asking? Why are you the center of attention for staring down the business end of a gun to save a fellow student, getting shot in the process, yet surviving? Why are you famous for protecting students and teachers alike from possibly being gunned down? Why are you a hero for protecting the rest of your class from a mentally unstable shooter? Seriously kid?"

"YES! I'm not kidding Tony! Why am I considered a hero for saving one kid, and nearly getting myself killed in the process. I couldn't stop Allen from shooting Mrs. Elis, or Isaac, or, or himself," Peter choked out, burying his head in his hands. "I couldn't save three people, so why am I a hero?"

"Kid, seriously, I get that you're all humble and stuff, but this is going a bit too far."

"Mentally unstable?"

"What?"

"That's what they're calling Allen? Mentally unstable?"

"Yeah, and psycho, and crazy, and insane, and a hell of a lot of other bad things because who in their right mind takes a gun to school and then proceeds to shoot three people before killing themselves?" Peter just stared at Tony, who stared back, realizing he probably said something that he shouldn't have.

"He wasn't. Yes, he might have been slightly disturbed, but he was mentally ill. Flash had bullied him, like, really bad, and Allen felt he didn't have any other choice. He's a good kid, just didn't know how to deal with things the proper way. I tried talking to him, tried to get him to put the gun down, but I couldn't save him," Peter said, his eyes watering. "He was just a kid, like me."

"Peter, that kid was not like you."

"Yes he was Tony. We were in math together, different grades, but," Peter said, pausing, biting his lip. He really didn't want to tell Tony about anything. He knew that the man would try to do something about it, probably making everything worse, which wouldn't be good.

"But what Peter?"

"Just forget it, okay?"

"Peter-"

"I said forget it Tony," Peter cried, emotions flooding his system. Tony opened his mouth, reaching for Peter to try to comfort the boy, but pulled back when Peter shifted away. "I'm feeling kind of tired so if you don't mind I'd like to get some sleep." Tony sat still, frozen. Well, until Peter turned and glared at him.

"Leave Tony." The billionaire wasn't sure what else to do, so he clenched his jaw, stood stiffly, and walked out of the room, shutting the door softly.

"I'm taking that it didn't go so well," Happy said, causing Tony to jump.

"Jeez Happy, give a man a warning will ya? Aren't you supposed to be with May?"

"She's passed out cold, no waking her anytime soon. Ned's passed out on her couch. Didn't see fit to wake either one, so I let Ned's mother he was staying with May before coming back here to see how you were holding up. I take it the kid's up, and that you had a talk, and he kicked you out?" Tony narrowed his eyes before nodding.

"How much did you hear?"

"Nothing, I just figured that's what happened. Happens on shows, in books, in movies; seems to be a common theme. Figured there might be some truth to it," Happy said with a shrug. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know what to do with him."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out boss."

"I don't know Hap, I don't know if I will."

"It might take time, but Peter can't hold a grudge, he's too nice," Happy said, sneering the word, but the gentle smile on his face got rid of any hate hidden behind it.

"You got that right. Kid's heart is going to get him killed."

"If you're not around, it might."

"What do you mean?"

"You give the kid structure and discipline, a father-figure if you will. Sure he had a father-figure, but the keyword is had. I feel bad that the kid lost both his father, and his uncle, but he has you now."

"I'm no father."

"I've gathered, but like it or not, that's what you act like around Peter."

"No, I'm just mentoring him." Happy looked at Tony, who twitched his nose in annoyance.

"Seriously, I'm not the kid's father-figure."

"Like it or not, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"What are you, five?"

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"Jesus Christ it's like I'm talking to a toddler."

"I take no offense."

"Didn't think you would boss."


	8. Chapter 7

**Sorry if characters seem out of character in this chapter, it just felt so weird to write for some reason.**

* * *

"Peter! I was so worried!"

Aunt May had woken up in her own bed, tucked in nonetheless, extremely confused. Last thing she remembers was sitting in Peter's hospital room, wanting him to wake up with some stupid sarcastic comment or terrible pun, giving her something to tell her he was okay. He didn't and she must have fallen asleep. Rubbing her weary eyes, she wandered out of her room, glancing at the shut door leading to Peter's, before wandering into the living room. It took her until she was at the fridge to notice someone else was in her apartment as well.

There was Ned, out cold, on the couch. He was snoring softly, one arm dangling off the couch, face smushed against a pillow, other arm tucked between the sofa cushions below his form, and his body. He looked so peaceful and May didn't want to wake him up. Unfortunately, as she was debating whether or not to wake him, a loud knock sounded from the door, startling her and causing the sleeping Ned to jolt awake, making him fall off the couch with a soft thump and a small groan. May wandered to the door, opening it slightly to see who it was before letting the man in. It was only Happy, who looked as disgruntled and uninterested as ever, though a sparkle of amusement flickered across his face at the sight of Ned slowly picking himself off the floor.

"Did you bring us back here?"

"I was told to Ms. Parker."

"May, please. How is Peter, is he okay? Did he wake up yet?"

"I'm supposed to bring you back to the hospital, Tony didn't actually tell me why," Happy said, shuffling his feet slightly. The pair who were sleeping were ready to go immediately. Happy brought them to the car waiting outside and they drove, in silence, to the hospital, afraid of why they were being summoned. Neither May nor Ned wanted to assume anything, but all either could think about was how Peter looked so sickly the last they saw him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to wade through the sea of reporters still trying to get a statement from Peter, who may or may not be awake yet. There was a back entrance, typically used for employees only, but they made an exception for the family. The trio walked tensely towards Peter's room, and neither could contain their happiness when Happy opened the door.

Both raced to Peter's side when they saw him sitting up slightly against the bed. He looked pale and drowsy, but he was awake. May started crying, and Ned sniffed, seemingly trying not to cry, but failing. Peter gave them a gentle smile and Tony sat in a chair beside him.

"Don't you ever do that to me again mister or I will kill you myself! Understand," May said, slapping him lightly on the arm before hugging him. Peter cried out in pain, causing her to flinch away, apologizing profusely, but Peter waved it off.

"It's okay, you didn't know."

"Seriously dude, no more heroics. Especially when I'm not around. Why do I always miss out on all the action," Ned whined before wincing. "Sorry Peter, didn't mean it like that, it's just-"

"I got what you were trying to say, and I wasn't being heroic, I was just doing what anyone else would have done," Peter said with a slight shrug, grunting as his bad side was moved.

"Peter, I don't think too many others would willingly stand between an angry shooter and their target."

"I still wasn't a hero, people are exaggerating, I mean have you seen the news, no one knows if I'm alive. There are so many rumors flying around it's insane. People are saying I got shot like twenty times or something else equally as crazy," Peter exclaimed.

"Peter, honey, I don't know why you can't get it through your head, but you are a hero. At least, you're a hero to Flash."

"Yeah dude, you should see social media, it's blowing up! Flash texted me asking if you were alright. He texted me asking about you. I don't even know how he got my number!" Peter looked uncomfortable, shifting slightly. He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"I don't understand what the big deal is. Why is everyone focused on me and not the people who actually should be recognized, like those dead, or the people who helped the students get out safely."

"Well, you are one of those people who helped get others out kiddo, whether you like it or not," May said, ruffling Peter's hair, messing it up. He groaned in annoyance, running his fingers through it to straighten it back out, wincing as his chest pulled.

"How are you Peter?" The teen looked at his friend, who still had worry written all over his face. "Like, seriously. I mean, you were shot, you nearly died, you did die briefly. How are you doing?"

"I've been better, that's for sure," Peter chuckled, rubbing his chest absentmindedly. "And right now I'm feeling alright, but I'm pretty sure it will all hit at some point, knock me off my feet for a while. But it's nothing I can't handle right? It's not like I'm a stranger to death," Peter muttered, causing everyone in the room to look away and shift uncomfortably.

"Kid," Tony started, breaking the awkward silence that fell over the group. "When it does hit you, let me know, I'm always there for you, okay?"

"Me too."

"And don't you dare think about holding anything in mister, or you will regret it," May scolded, causing Peter to grin sheepishly and nod.

"Thanks guys, I will, promise. I won't keep stuff bottled up this time." Tony wasn't quite sure what he meant by this time, but a look at Ned and May showed that they seemed to know what he meant. There were some things that Tony needed to speak with the kid about when the time was right.

"Peter?"

"Yeah Aunt May?"

"I think that you should say something to Flash," she said, causing Peter to look down at his hands, which were playing with the edge of the blanket. "He doesn't know if you're alive or not, and I know you don't like him, but you could at least show him you're alive and okay."

"Wait, wait wait, hold up. You stood in front of a gun, got shot, nearly died, to save a kid you don't like? I didn't understand you, intentionally putting yourself in harm's way, but now even less so. I mean, I'm all for saving people, but you could have found a better way."

"I just kind of reacted, I didn't think."

"There's your problem, you didn't think. You saw a gun pointed at someone and just, put yourself between the two. I don't understand you kid. Your heart is going to get you killed some day, I swear," Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Peter looked guilty, his fingers toying at the fabric of the blanket." Tony looked between the three and Ned opened his mouth to speak.

"Yeah Peter, Tony has a point. I mean, you hate Flash, he's always beating on you, and yet you chose to nearly die to protect him. I don't know why you think that nearly getting killed is acceptable," Ned exclaimed, throwing his hands up before his eyes widen and his hands fly to cover his mouth. May and Tony both look at the boy before turning to a pale, nervous Peter, who seemed to lighten a few shades more when Ned said what he did.

"Beating on you? What exactly does Ned mean Peter," Tony asked the boy in bed, who refused to make eye contact with him.

"I'm so sorry Peter, I didn't mean to-"

" 's okay Ned, they'd find out eventually."

"Find what out?"

"Ned. Talk," May demanded, causing the boy to crack.

"Okay, okay, Flash has been bullying Peter for a while now, but Peter insists on not letting you know May. I don't know why he doesn't want you to know, probably 'cause he doesn't want you to worry, but I don't get it. The teachers know about it, and there's at least one who'll actually acknowledge the bullying when it happens and try to stop it, but nothing ever works. The worst punishment Flash will get it maybe an after school detention for one day, but nothing more, so it's kind of pointless," Ned blurted, his words spewed without any filter.

"So the teachers know about Flash bullying you and they do nothing?" Peter nodded slowly.

"Why kind of bullying?" There was no answer from Peter, but Ned burst once Tony glared at him for a few seconds.

"Usually it's just kind of names and such, but sometimes Peter'll come to class with some bruises, or he'll end up in a locker, or something else. I don't know the extent of it, I'm sorry Mr. Stark, please don't hurt me," Ned stammered, covering his head. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and May just looked pissed off.

"Peter, look at me." He didn't. "Peter. Look me in the eyes. Now," May demanded and Peter forced himself to look, a few tears falling from his eyes. "Why didn't you feel you could tell me this? I'm your aunt, I thought we told each other things," she said softly, saddened that Peter felt that he couldn't tell her about Flash.

"I'm sorry."

"Peter."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you May, I just didn't want you to worry. I mean, it's been years and nothing to bad happened. I mean, it's just some name-calling and the occasional shove in the hallways, nothing more."

"That fight you got into a few months back, with Flash. The one you got about two weeks worth of after school detention for. Was that…?"

"I didn't retaliate," Peter murmured, looking down again. "He shoved me against some lockers at the end of the school day, beat me up a bit, no big deal, but then a teacher showed up and we both got in trouble, kind of. I ended up with two weeks of detention, Flash got a slap on the wrist because there were practices he couldn't miss for football because of a big upcoming game." Tony growled and May's eyes held flames in them.

"Why that little son of a-"

"Language Tony, please," May scolded, causing Tony to roll his eyes.

"I think you should confront Flash, tell him you're okay, show him you're fine, no thanks to him."

"He bullied Allen, that's why Allen brought the gun, revenge." Everyone looked at Peter, so the teen explained.

"Allen was a nice kid, never got in trouble, but Flash, even though he was an underclassmen, decided he could bully Allen. From what I gather, or can guess, Flash's treatment of him was worse than what he does to me. More physical I think, more shoving, beatings, tripping, and a lot more taunts and teases. Allen was just hurting and felt that getting rid of the object of his pain was the only way out. Unfortunately, he discovered another way when that didn't work," Peter said, eyes glazing over and face becoming stoic as he thought about how Allen felt there was nothing worth living for.

"So Flash is the reason three people are dead?"

"No, Allen is the reason those people are dead, himself in included, he pulled the trigger," Tony said.

"But Flash's treatment of Allen was what drove him off the edge," May said softly and the group sat in silence, mulling over everything that had been said.

"Should I invite Flash in here," Peter asked quietly, breaking the silence and causing three pairs of eyes to dart to him.

"I was thinking you could just have Ned text him that you were alive and alright."

"Yeah, that could work, but if you really want to show him that you are alive and well, a visit might do that better."

"So should I tell Flash to stop by or…?"

"I'll send Happy for him," Tony said, shooting the man a text, but stopping before he hit send. "Is that okay Peter? If he comes today?" Peter hesitated before nodding shakily.

Tony hit send.


	9. Chapter 8

Tony had given Happy specific instructions to not tell Flash why he was being brought to the hospital. The more questions he asked, the less words Happy would use to answer them, or at least that's what Tony thought when he heard a loud voice asking questions and Happy just grunting in annoyance in response. He had stepped out of the room to wait for the kid, wanting to have a little chat with him before he was allowed in to see Peter.

"Why can't you tell me why you brought me here? Is this about Parker? Who are you even? What's going on," came the continuous stream of questions until the kid finally turned and caught sight of Tony, who gave a somewhat forced smile and a clipped wave.

"You-, you're Tony Stark!"

"Really, I hadn't noticed," Tony exclaimed sarcastically, dismissing Happy with a wave. The man never looked so happy to get away from someone, not even Peter. The bodyguard/driver/all-around-whatever man quickly left the area, leaving just Tony and Flash, the former glaring while the latter stared at the man in awe.

"What are you doing here Mr. Stark? What's going on? Was that one of your guys? He wouldn't tell me anything," Flash said and Tony put his hands behind his back, approaching Flash so they were standing less than a foot apart.

"I'm here because my intern was shot," was Tony's blunt reply. He saw how Flash's eyes widened and he winced, probably guiltily. Tony smirked to himself.

"He wasn't lying?" Tony blinked a few times in slight shock.

"Why would you think he was lying? No, he hasn't been, he's actually my intern and has been for a while now." Flash shuffled his feet sheepishly.

"Well I mean, the only one who really believed him was Ned, but I think the principal and some of the teachers did too."

"No one believed that Peter Parker, a brilliant young man, was my intern," Tony spoke to clarify.

"No," Flash muttered in response.

"Why not?"

"I mean, he's Parker," Flash said as if it cleared up everything. Tony only raised an eyebrow in response, gesturing for Flash to continue. Flash cleared his throat, probably trying to think of a way to explain it.

"He's always been top of his class and stuff, but he's not really popular, and no one ever pays much attention to him. So when he suddenly starts talking about his 'Stark Internship' no one really took him seriously, you know?"

"No, I really don't. Why, just because of not being popular, did you not believe he was my intern?"

"Well for one, no one had actually heard about any sort of internship until Peter started talking about it." Tony nodded to himself, thinking about that. It was true. He had kind of made it up on the spot.

"Why else?"

"You're Tony freakin' Stark! You're an Avenger! You saved the world! You're a hero. There's no way that Puny Parker could ever end up interning for you. I mean, you're famous and the only one who really noticed Peter at school is Ned," Flash said and Tony just looked at him, amazed at the ignorance the boy was capable of.

"Wow, just, wow. From what I hear, Peter's a hero too. I mean, he did get shot protecting your dumb ass," Tony retorted, taking pleasure in the guilty look that flashed across the boy's face before he looked down at the ground. "I also heard from a source that Ned wasn't the only one to notice Peter. I mean, you seem to have noticed him a few times, am I right?" Tony gave a small smirk when he saw Flash's face pale as the boy looked up at him in what appeared to be fear.

"A, a few times, but never again. I mean, I won't even bother Peter again, I mean, he saved my life. I owe him."

"I think you owe Allen too," Tony said softly, causing Flash's expression to go from fear to something that Tony couldn't quite distinguish.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"I bet you didn't, but it did happen kid, and, like it or not, it's kind of because of you. I mean, you didn't pull the trigger, but you caused a kid to think that taking a gun to school was the only choice he had."

"Everyone keeps texting me and sending me Snapchats and shit about how lucky I am to face a gun and live, how I was lucky to be alive. Reporters stopped by my house multiple times, but my mom made them leave. No one really knows what happened in the classroom but me and Parker." Tony nodded.

"Hmm, okay, so everyone is telling you you're lucky, how you got out without major injury, when everyone else in the room was either dead, or close to it. Meanwhile, I don't think anyone has asked Peter anything, or asked about Peter, that I've noticed, when he's the person who was in the most danger."

"I asked Ned about him, but I never got a response."

"How'd you even get his number?"

"Friends," was the only reply, accompanied by a shrug.

"I'm just saying, I want to know how Peter is, is he alive? Is he going to be okay? I tried to stop the bleeding Mr. Stark, I really did, but there was just so much blood," Flash said, looking ready to cry, panic on his face as he unconsciously rubbed at his hands.

"He's alive, no thanks to you. Has anyone been asking about Peter at all, or have they all focused on you? I mean, the news had a report on it about the main people involved in the shooting, both shooter and victims, but there was nothing more about Peter other than on the day it actually happened."

"No one has Peter's contact info or anything. I don't think he has any sort of social media anything, and no one actually knows anything. I mean, who believes that Peter actually got shot protecting me. There's a rumor going around that he tried to run, but caught one before getting too far."

"I'm hoping that you tried to quell that rumor," Tony said, his tone rigid and stern. Flash gulped and looked extremely nervous.

"I-I-I," Flash stammered and Tony scoffed.

"Huh, figures. You didn't want to look bad so you did nothing did you? You let everyone believe that Peter was a coward, or at least, didn't do anything to protect you. He saved your life Eugene," Tony said, sneering the boy's name. Said teen flinched and looked down at his feet. The billionaire pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Listen kid, I get that you don't want to ruin your image, and I get, now, that Peter doesn't seem to be very popular at all, but the least you could do for the kid that saved your life is at least tell people what he did. I don't know exactly what happened, only you and Peter do, and from what you've been telling me, no one's going to exactly listen to Peter are they?" Flash shook his head.

"No, they won't. I promise that I'll tell everyone what Parker did for me, and I won't bother him anymore."

"No, you won't bother anyone anymore, got it? The least you could do for both Peter and Allen is give up your bullying ways. If I catch wind that you've been messing with anyone, especially Peter, ever again, I can assure you that I will make your life miserable," Tony seethed, towering over the kid who was cowering with wide eyes.

"Yes sir," Flash replied softly.

"Now, I didn't actually want you here."

"What?"

"Yeah, the only reason that you're here is because Peter wanted to see you." Now Flash looked even more confused.

"Parker? But why? I mean, of anyone, why does he want to see me?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I think he needs to talk to you about something or other."

"Then why are we talking?"

"Because of your little bullying problem. I didn't know about it until about an hour ago, and I have a feeling that Peter's aunt is going to be less than pleased as well, but we are here, having this chat, so I can personally show you that Peter is a better kid than you, and will probably be a better man than me," Tony said softly, 'if he doesn't get himself killed before then', he thought with a grimace. "I just wanted to have a little chat with you, making sure you won't be bothering anyone else anymore. I have been clear on that right?" Flash nodded rapidly.

"Yes Mr. Stark, crystal clear."

"Alright then, Peter wants to talk with you." Tony opened the door to the room, causing all inhabitants to stare at the newcomer.

"H-hey Parker."

"Flash." Tense silence fell over the room.

"How about we give the two boys some space," Tony said with a clap, startling everyone in the room from their glaring or staring. If looks could kill, May would have murdered Flash multiple times. Ned just looked to Peter, who nodded at his friend with a small smile. The two were shuffled out, Tony giving one last glance at Peter, trying to convey that if the teen needed anything to just call. Peter smiled at him and the door shut with a click.

"So," Flash drawled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Peter just sat, waiting. "Mr. Stark said you wanted to talk to me?"

"I just wanted you to see that I'm fine, it was actually my aunt's idea." Flash nodded and the two fell into more awkward silence.

"Are you okay Peter?" Peter gave a short laugh.

"I think that's the first time in years I've heard you actually call me by my actual first name." Flash winced sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"Seriously though, I'm doing alright. I feel about as good as someone can after being shot and going through all the shit that we did."

"You nearly died Peter. Because of me," Flash stressed, wondering how Peter could be so calm about it.

"Yeah, but I didn't. Everything's probably going to hit me at some point, but for now I'm doing alright, I'm coping."

"I don't understand you Parker. I mean, why would you put yourself between me and Allen. I've never been nice to you, and yet you take a bullet to save me. Why?" Peter shrugged.

"I don't really know. I mean, I couldn't just let Allen kill you, you have a family, friends, people who care about you."

"And you don't?"

"Not as many." Flash ran a hand through his hair, sitting in the chair next to Peter's bed, facing the teen.

"I heard you talking to Allen," Flash said softly and Peter's faint smile faltered slightly before falling all together. He seemed to age well beyond his years in mere seconds, eyes clouding over with pain and expression turning into one of exhaustion. He still managed to put a small smile back up, but it was one filled with sadness.

"Yeah…."

"Does anyone know?" Peter shook his head with a sigh.

"No, no one does."

"I know that we aren't on the best of terms, but you can't keep that stuff hidden Parker, it's not safe."

"I know I just, I can't tell anyone, and you won't tell anyone about it," Peter said forcefully, making Flash think about how Peter could be kind of terrifying if he wanted to be, almost as much as Mr. Stark.

"I won't, unless you make me."

"Good. That was actually one of the reasons I wanted you to come here. I wanted to make sure that if you heard something, you can be assured that you didn't hear anything," Peter spoke softly, yet sternly.

"Got it, didn't hear anything." Flash wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, he knew it was Peter's thing to tell, but on the other, he wasn't sure if Peter was a hazard to himself or not. I mean, he got himself shot without hesitation because 'Flash had family and friends who care' almost like he didn't. It was a little terrifying. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Peter broke it.

"Are people asking about me at all? I don't expect them to, but I want to know the rumors that are going around." Flash swallowed nervously.

"People are saying that you tried to run and got shot on the way out of the room. They don't believe that you would protect me." Peter nodded.

"I kind of expected that."

"But I'm going to tell them what happened." Peter raised an eyebrow and shook his head this time.

"No, don't do that."

"What? Why not? I mean, you saved my life, you tried to save Allen, and I'm pretty sure you saved everyone else in the class, and maybe school. Peter, you're a hero and everyone thinks you're a coward."

"Yeah, but as soon as you tell them that I protected you, you'll probably lose popularity, and I might gain it, but I don't want it. I don't want to be the center of attention, I just want to be me, Peter Parker, bottom of Midtown's food chain, blending into the background."

"I don't understand you Parker, and I don't think I ever will, but I'm still going to tell people."

"Tony threatened you didn't he," Peter said blatantly and Flash blushed with embarrassment.

"Yeah."

"Figures."


	10. Chapter 9

Tony sent Flash home after the two teen boys had been talking for a while. He had opened the door after politely insisting that both May and Ned go to the cafeteria to get some food and/or coffee that wasn't shit, and saw the two teens looking as though some big confession of sorts was made.

"Woah, did I interrupt something here," Tony said, hands going up in a mock surrender, causing the two teens to look at him. Flash looked as though he wanted to tell him something, but a quick flutter of his eyes to Peter and back told the billionaire that whatever the, hopefully former, bully wanted to say, Peter wouldn't like. Peter just looked dead tired, but he gave a smile to Tony, even though the man could easily see it was forced.

"Time for Eugene here to head home," Tony said, patting Flash on the back, making him stand, and ushering him out of the room. Tony looked at Peter, who let his smile fall when he thought Tony was gone. Shutting the door behind him, he used gentle persuasion, i.e. lightly shoved the kid against a wall, to make the kid tell him whatever he was afraid to. Flash whimpered, but didn't say anything.

"What doesn't Peter want me to know?"

"He doesn't want anyone to know, I'm sorry Mr. Stark."

"Alright kid."

"R-really?"

"No, what? You think that just because Peter doesn't want me to know something means I'm never going to find out? Either you tell me now, Eugene, or this will get ugly," Tony said, pushing his tone into one that screamed he was utterly serious, and basically threatening the kid. Flash gulped before giving a stuttered answer.

"He didn't want anyone to know about what he said in the room."

"What, why?" Tony didn't have to fake being confused. I mean, why would Peter care what he said in that classroom, unless it was extremely embarrassing.

"You can't tell May, or Ned. Peter'll kill me," Flash said, obviously scared, even though he seemed to be trying to keep his tough guy image, yet failing. Tony's eyes just widened in surprise.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because he sounded like you, you know, earlier, when you were threatening me to stop messing with people or else." All Tony could do was blink in surprise. Never, and he means never, had he thought Peter could be scary. Serious, sure, annoying, definitely, but scary? The kid would be like a little puppy or kitten, trying to act all big and tough, but only ending up looking more adorable in the end.

"Okay kid, I won't tell May or Ned." Flash nodded and visibly let out a breath of relief, but Tony continued. "Unless I deem it necessary they know."

"No, no you don't understand, Peter will kill me, I'm certain. I mean, I'm not even sure I'll make it out alive telling you."

"Ah come on, it's Peter, how much damage could he do." Flash winced, almost as if remembering something.

"More than you'd think," Flash muttered to himself, but Tony caught it and filed under things to ask about later. "Please Mr. Stark."

"Fine kid, jeez, I won't tell another soul, okay? We good? Tell me."

"Allen was going to kill himself."

"Going to? He did."

"Yeah, but Peter tried talking him down, watched it fail. I can't even imagine…." Tony winced inwardly. It was one thing to talk to someone who felt hopeless, it was one thing to feel that hopelessness, but it was an entirely different thing to try to help someone come down off the ledge, but fail, forcing you to watch them fall. Tony couldn't even fathom what was running through Peter's mind, how he must be blaming himself for everything that happened.

"There's more to this, I know. I mean, why wouldn't Peter want anyone to know he tried to help Allen? I mean, if that doesn't make him look like more of a hero, I don't know what does." Flash nodded hesitantly, glancing around with a nervous gaze.

"It was what he was talking about, you know, to talk Allen down."

"Uh huh, go on." Tony was getting frustrated with this kid. Flash gulped and continued looking extremely nervous. Rolling his eyes, Tony huffed. "Spit it out!"

"Okay! Peter talked about knowing how Allen felt," Flash spat out, flinching back slightly. Tony looked at the teen with narrowed eyes before stepping away, letting Flash move away from the wall he was backed up against.

"What do you mean?"

"Peter was talking about what Allen must have been feeling, like, from experience or something. I mean, he, uh, he mentioned that, umm, that one time he, he was standing on a ledge, and uh, he was," Flash stuttered, ringing his hands together. Tony raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop.

"You can go home." Flash nodded rapidly before scurrying away. Tony sent a quick message to Happy, telling him to find the kid and give him a ride once the teen realized he actually had no ride home, you know, after the whole nervousness wore off slightly.

Tony couldn't believe, didn't want to believe, was Flash was saying. He couldn't see how Peter, happy, bouncing, always smiling and talking excitedly, could even think about….Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What am I going to do with you kid," Tony muttered under his breath. He opened the door a crack to see what Peter was doing, not really feeling comfortable leaving the boy unsupervised anymore. Peter was laying in bed, upper half slightly more elevated than the lower, head turned to the side, staring at the wall. He wasn't moving, wasn't fidgeting, barely looked like he was alive aside from the shaky breaths that he would draw in and let out every now and then. Tony felt his heart clench in pain, seeing how dead and tired Peter appeared, and he couldn't even see his face, with it turned away from him and all. Sighing, Tony opened the door and stepped in, shutting it softly behind him. He wandered to the foot of Peter's bed, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Peter turned his head, flashing a smile at Tony. The man flinched at the haunted look in Peter's eyes.

"Hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here today," Peter said, joking around, or trying to. His comical manner fell away as his face twisted in concern and confusion when Tony's face remained sorrowful.

"Kid," was all Tony could choke out. He cleared his throat again, sitting down in the chair, with Peter's permission, before running a hand over his face with a groan.

"Are you okay Mr. Stark? Is everyone okay? What's wrong? I know there's something wrong. Mr. Stark, seriously, tell me what's up," Peter said, trying to understand why his mentor looked so, something. Guilty maybe? Sad? Exhausted? Peter wasn't sure; he couldn't quite pick out just one emotion.

"I'm okay, everyone's okay, except for you." Peter looked a bit terrified, and completely confused.

"What's wrong with me? I mean, I'm healing, I feel fine, I feel healthy," Peter said, gesturing around with his arms, pointing at himself as well, as if to indicate that he looked fine.

"Physically, sure, mentally, I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" Peter didn't like where this was going.

"I think you know what I mean Peter."

"If you're talking about how I feel about being shot, or how I feel after watching a classmate kill two people, and take his own life, I mean, that's something. Hasn't hit me yet, not full force, but I'm pretty sure it will. I feel okay right now though."

"That's kind of what I'm getting at, but not really. I'm more talking about previous things that happened, or were happening. Peter, and be honest with me here; I know when you're lying, are you depressed?" Peter could only stare in shock at Tony. He gulped before giving a stammered answer.

"What? No, I don't think so, no. I mean, do I feel down in the dumps, sure, sometimes, I mean, who wouldn't? But I wouldn't go so far as to say depressed. I mean, that's pushing it," Peter said, nervous laughter bubbling to the surface. His answer did nothing to calm Tony, and only seemed to make the man more concerned, so Peter kept babbling, even when he tried to stop, until Tony interrupted him.

"That really didn't help your case at all. Peter, why didn't you let me know? Why don't you want Ned or May to know? It's not healthy keeping all this shit bottled up. Trust me, if anyone would know how bad that backfires, it's me." Peter looked down at his hands. He didn't want to see the disappointment he knew, he just knew, had to be written all across Tony's face. He didn't want to see how he had screwed up this time. He didn't want to face disappointing someone else he cared about, especially again after majorly screwing the pooch with the whole Vulture incident. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he sniffed and took a swipe at them with his hand.

"Kid, Pete, look at me. Peter, look at me," Tony commanded, though softly to not terrify Peter. He wasn't quite ready for Peter to look at him, guilt showing on his face, tears trailing down his cheeks. "Oh kid," Tony mumbled, feeling terrible for causing those tears.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark."

"What for kid? You didn't do anything wrong." Peter sniffed again, wiping angrily at the tears.

"For letting you down." Tony's heart broke when he heard that.

"You didn't let me down kid. In fact, you're probably the strongest person I've met." That earned him an emotionless laugh from the teen in bed.

"Are you serious? I mean, I'm a mentally unstable teenage superhero who goes swinging around New York at night, fighting crime, in a onesie. I crack jokes when I shouldn't. I annoy people all the time; I mean why do you think I only have two friends? I was an idiot and got myself shot, and failed to save three people, who were right in front of me. I mean, if you insist, go for it, but I am not strong." Tony gave a sad sigh.

"But you saved so many people, not just fellow classmates, but every person you've ever helped while being Spidey. Every person sent safely home to their family and friends because you helped them. Every little kid reunited with their parents because of you. Every bad guys you take down saves countless lives. This is every day Peter. Not many people would risk their life every single night to save complete strangers. That, in my book, makes you strong Peter."

"The Avengers save people, cops save people, firefighters, paramedics, doctors, they all save people daily. I'm not special for doing it."

"You're fifteen. They have had years building up to who they are now, most having extensive training to be where they're at. You've had less than a year." Peter didn't respond. "What I'm trying to say kid is that if you weren't around, what would happen to everyone you've saved? What will happen to everyone you will save?" Still no response. "Keeping shit in doesn't help anyone, but I promise you, you are not letting me down in any sort of way if you're struggling. I understand what it feels like Peter. I know what it's like to not see a path that's worth trudging down."

"What?" Peter looked at the billionaire in shock. Tony gazed at him sadly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I was in a rough place. I mean, I had problems from childhood and stuff that I never dealt with that probably made it worse in the long run, but when the dam broke, it exploded. It was after...after Afghanistan." Peter blinked in surprise. He could tell that it was hard for Tony to talk about and didn't want the man to have to recall that time.

"It's okay kid, it'll be a little bit of therapy for the both of us," Tony said, reading Peter's mind. "They wanted me to build weapons, the bad guys. I refused. You can kind of guess where that ends up." Peter grimaced.

"They killed my friend, Yinsen, who helped me break out of that hellhole. That's actually where Iron Man was first born." Tony could only give a small smile when he saw Peter, looking like a little kid, hanging onto every word he said like it was gold. "After that, I had some definite PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks, the whole shebang," Tony said with a humorless chuckle. "I was barely sleeping, I wasn't eating. I knew there were people who cared about me, but everything was so tiresome and heavy, if that makes sense. It felt like the world changed, like there wasn't anything there that I recognized, but I was the one who changed. Then someone close to me betrayed me, and I kind of lost it. I went on a bender, one of those self-destructive, don't give two shits kind of one. That landed me in hot water with Pepper and Rhodey."

"But you're Tony Stark, you're, I don't know, invincible!"

"Tell that to people close to me kid. Tell that to my brain. It got a bit better for a while, never stopped drinking though, but then there was the whole incident with the Invasion of New York, and let me tell ya', fighting aliens and flying a nuke into a hole in space-time to blow up the mothership gives you some major problems. It got dark. It got real dark and real bad, but I had people close to me who took notice and who helped me climb out of the hole I dug. Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, hell, even the Avengers to some extent, helped me out. I was down for the count, but the people who cared about me tore down those blackout shades I put up and helped me see that I would be missed. Sure, I still have problems, still drink a bit much, but I've gotten better. The moral of this little story is that no matter how many times your brain tells you people don't care, it's lying. Peter, you have people who care about you so much, your brain is just putting blinders up to make it hard to see."

"I don't even know what to say….I never, I never knew that, does anyone know about, everything? Besides Pepper and them?" Tony shook his head.

"Only Pepper and Rhodey really know how dark it got for me. No one else, besides you now, knows about anything below the surface layer. So don't go around that Tony Stark is human okay? People see me like a god and I'd like to keep that, makes me look good," he said with a smirk and Peter gave the smallest smile, but it fell away too quickly for Tony's liking. "Alright kid, out with it, what's going on?"

"It's just hard to smile." Tony thought about those words before thinking about something he really didn't want to.

"How much of your happy, bubbly, puppy-dog persona is real Peter? What I mean by this is, have you ever truly been that kind of happy since I've met you?" Peter sat still, probably thinking, before letting a breath out and looking at Tony with confusion on his face. There was also fear lurking behind his eyes.

"I don't know."

"That's not an answer Peter."

"I don't know okay?! I just, I have trouble figuring out what's real anymore," Peter mumbled quietly. Tony clench his jaw, knowing it was probably worse than he thought.

"When was the last time you truly, genuinely, felt happy, and I mean actual happiness that lasted for more than a minute or two." Peter shook his head.

"I dunno, a year maybe? I don't really remember."

"Pete…And no one knows?" The teen shook his head again.

"No," came the tiny, whispered reply.

"And here I was thinking you were bad at lying when you've been lying to the people closest to you for months." Peter flinched and Tony silently cursed himself for his choice of words. "Sorry, wrong thing to say."

"No, it's true. I've been lying to Aunt May, and Ned, and everyone for months, and not just about Spider-man."

"I can help you kiddo, you just have to let me do something first."

"What?"

"Let me tell May and Ned, or at least May."

"NO! She can't know."

"Why not?" Peter stammered before shrugging, looking down at his hands again.

"I dunno."

"Is it because you think it will change her view of you? Or how she acts around you? Or your relationship with her?" Tony wasn't sure what was running through Peter's head, so he tried a few things he had been afraid about.

"I'm not sure, I guess," the teen mumbled and the billionaire nodded.

"It won't change anything Peter. If anything, it'll strengthen the bond you have."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I didn't want anyone to know what was going on with me for the same reasons. Nothing changed though, I just ended up with the knowledge that the people I love, love me back equally or more."

"But you don't know," Peter choked out, tears forming in his eyes again.

"Peter, you just have to trust me, it'll be okay, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Peter said, emotionless, which somewhat scared Tony. It was almost like he was recalling previous promises broken.

"I know that this one won't be broken. You have to trust me Peter; it'll help you, I promise."

"No." Tony sighed.

"Kid, either I'm telling her or you will. I won't tell her about the rooftop ledge, just about how you're struggling."

"The ledge?" Peter squeaked out. Tony pursed his lips.

"Yeah, I know about that. That is a conversation that we will have at a later date, when you're physically recovered and out of this hospital." Peter gulped before resting back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

"Okay."

"What was that, I didn't quite hear you," Tony said, worrying that he had pressed the kid a bit too much. He was happy when he heard a sigh sound from the teen.

"I'll tell her. Could you keep Ned distracted though? I really don't think I have the energy to tell Aunt May, let alone Ned too."

"Sure thing kiddo." Tony stood up, walking towards the door. Just as his hand grasped the handle, he heard his name called.

"Mr. Stark?" The man turned to look at the teen, who gave him a small, weak smile, but it seemed genuine enough. Tony returned it.

"Yeah Pete?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime kiddo. Anytime."


	11. Author's Notice

**Hey guys. So my updating schedule is going to be getting not so great, but it will continue. Sorry I've been a bit MIA for a couple days, needed to sort through some stuff. I'm not going to stop writing, just probably a new chapter every few days or so instead of everyday (which was a bit insane if I might say). If you don't hear from me for a while, do not be alarmed, it is merely school kicking my ass, and work, and life. If you don't hear from me in a couple weeks, I'd be slightly alarmed, but don't completely flip out. If it's been over two weeks, then you can flip out and yell at me for not updating for a while. Otherwise, keeping reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing my peeps!**

 **I love y'all.**

 **Peace.**


	12. Chapter 10

The silence was deafening.

Tony had told Aunt May about what he had learned, and needless to say, she was taken aback. Sure Peter didn't seem like himself recently, but she just figured it was adjusting to school, and the internship, and all without Ben. He always seemed so full of joy and was always bouncing around like a child, gesturing animatedly whenever he got excited about something. Now that she was thinking back to those moments, she realized that even though he may have appeared that way, his smile never quite reached his dull, worn eyes. Looking at the broken boy in bed, her broken boy, she couldn't help but feel a surge of overwhelming guilt and shame for not seeing anything sooner.

Ned was at his home, updating his mom about everything, and temporarily banned from visiting Peter for the time being with the claim that it was "for Peter's health". It partially was, in all honesty. Peter wasn't sure if he could handle Ned, on top of Aunt May and Tony, know what was going on with him. It would have seriously stressed him out, something he definitely did not need at the moment.

"Peter," Aunt May started, causing the boy to look away, tears springing to his eyes as guilt flooded his system.

"I'm sorry," came the small reply, causing the only female in the room to stare, surprised, at the speaker.

"What are you sorry for hon? You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I should have noticed you weren't yourself; I should have noticed." Peter's head whipped back to face Aunt May with wide eyes.

"It's not your fault May," Tony said, causing both other pairs of eyes to stare at him. "Peter's pretty good at keeping secrets when he wants to." Aunt May scoffed.

"He's always been such a terrible liar though. I mean, he couldn't lie to save his life," she exclaimed, the abundance of emotions clogging her verbal filter. She was a bit hysterical, but she was not going to admit that; it would only make Peter freak out even more.

"I thought so too, but apparently, he has some talents that neither of us were aware of, though I wish acting wasn't one of them."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tense silence fell over the trio with one single question, one simple question. Peter looked down at his hands.

"I don't know."

"Peter, you know you can trust me, I though we told each other everything."

"We do, I just, I could never make myself tell you. I didn't know how to tell you. It's hard to admit that you're broken okay? I didn't know how to tell you, and I couldn't make myself tell you." Aunt May sighed, giving Tony a look. The billionaire nodded, standing from his chair.

"I'm going to get some coffee, anyone want anything?" Soft mutters of no tumbled off the lips of the other inhabitants and Tony took that as his cue to leave. The door shut with a soft click behind the man, leaving May and Peter alone.

"I guess I just don't understand how hard it is for you to tell me you're struggling Peter. How long?"

"I dunno."

"I think you do mister. How long have you been feeling this way?" Peter still wasn't making eye contact. "Peter Benjamin Parker, you tell me this instance how long I have been failing to notice how much you were struggling. You tell me how long I've been failing you." May felt tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't move to wipe them away. A soft sniff drew her attention to the bowed head of her boy, whose tears were falling against the blanket before a hand was drawn across his face.

"I don't know, a while, maybe a year, more? It's hard to figure out when everything went downhill." May was openly crying, face scrunched up in pain.

"Oh hon, why couldn't you tell me? Why didn't I notice?"

"I'm sorry Aunt May, I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I don't mean to hurt you. I'm a mess, you don't need to deal with me right now. You can leave if you want, need time to process this stuff and everything," Peter said, finally looking her in the eyes, pain radiating off his form and eyes shining with unshed tears. Aunt May stood from her chair and sat on Peter's bed, grasping his hands in hers, tightly.

"I am not ever going to leave you. You are not a problem to be shoved aside, you are my boy, and we will figure this out, together. We are in this together Peter, you hear me? Your problems are mine, and we will get through this, you will make it through this, and I will be here every step of the way."

"Thanks Aunt May," Peter said with a sniff and a small smile before he was pulled into a tight embrace. Forgetting that he was supposed to be acting injured still, he didn't flinch away, only nuzzling closer to May, not wanting her to ever let go. He didn't realize how much he needed a hug. When they finally pulled apart, Peter let out a soft whimper at the loss of body heat, but it was near silent so, thankfully, May didn't hear. She was still clasping his hands in her's though, so that was comforting all on it's own.

"I promise you, Peter, I am always here for you. You have to promise me one thing as well though."

"What?"

"You have to at least give me some sign when you aren't feeling like your usual self, or your having trouble keeping your head above water. I don't care if you give me a look, or say some sort of code word, or do a weird handshake, or whatever. Just please let me know when you're struggling so I can help, okay?" Peter nodded with a small, thankful smile on his lips.

"Yeah, got it, though I won't be doing some sort of elaborate handshake, I can promise you that," Peter chuckled, causing May to smirk and give a short laugh as well.

"How are you Peter?"

"What do you mean?" Peter was thrown slightly off balance by the sudden mood and subject change.

"How are you, mentally, physically, emotionally? It's a simple question that could provide a difficult and complicated answer."

"Yeah, I know."

"Seriously though Pete, are you feeling alright?" Peter thought for a moment, trying to gauge exactly how he felt and he noticed, for the first time in a long time, and strangely enough, he felt content with where he was.

"I'm good," he said genuinely. "I may be shot and injured, but I actually feel better in this moment, with you, and knowing that there are people who care so much about me, than I have in a long time." May smiled and clasped Peter's hands tighter.

"We are always here for you, and this is never going to change, promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Well I will do my damnedest to keep this one," May said, determination in her eyes.

"I know you will, but fate is a cruel mistress." May scrunched up her face in confusion.

"Where'd you hear that oh profound one?" Peter shrugged with a half-smile.

"I dunno, MJ probably," he said with a laugh. May nodded.

"I could see that. Speaking of MJ, she's been awfully worried about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she kept swinging by the apartment, or Ned's, or calling Ned, or me, or Tony somehow. Pretty sure she probably hacked into Stark Industries purely to find out how you were doing. You have some caring friends Peter, they'll stick with you through thick and thin, no doubt."

"Yeah, they are pretty awesome. Why hasn't MJ come by the hospital?"

"She stated that she doesn't like hospitals because 'there's too many people meandering around, wailing about sickness or pain, and assholes being treated when so many more around the world are suffering from worse than a sprained ankle, and yet they don't complain'. She kept going on and on until something drew her attention away and I made my escape."

"That sounds like MJ."

"She does send her best, and asked for me to tell you that if you ever do something like this again, she will kill you herself."

"Definitely Michelle."

The two continued to talk for what felt like hours when Tony walked back in, a familiar face in tow.

"I think you both remember Dr. Orrow." May stood to shake the woman's hand.

"I can't thank you enough, and I know I thank you every time I see you, but you saved my boy's life."

"I was just doing my job," Rita said humbly before turning her attention to Peter, a smile gracing her lips.

"How are you feeling Peter? Any stiffness, soreness, pain, anything?"

"I feel pretty good right now, thanks."

"That's good. At the rate you're healing, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd be able to start some physical therapy in a few weeks."

"Really," May asked, eyes wide with joyous shock. "That's amazing!"

"I wanted to wait to see how you were healing, but Mr. Stark insisted that I make an appointment for you with one of the top physical therapists in New York, which I did. In a few weeks, you should be healed enough to start on some like therapy, mainly assessing your motor skills, and somewhat your stamina and endurance, but mainly seeing about your walking situation."

Peter had forgotten about that little fact. So many revelations had occurred recently that the fact that his legs remained limp and useless beneath the covers kind of slipped his mind. When Dr. Orrow mentioned them, pain shot through his body, but not the physical kind. It was a anxiety-filled, nervous shot of pain that caused cold fear trickle into every little corner of his being. He could kind of feel his legs, but the further down his leg you went, the less sensation he was getting. He tried twitching his feet, legs, anything, trying to see if they would cooperate at all, but all he got was worry filling his core when nothing happened. Rita must have noticed what he was trying to do, or had seen his worry, because she was quick to assure him.

"I want to tell you that it will only take a few days or weeks before you're back, 100%, but then I'd be lying. It will take a while for you to be at partial strength again, a lot of hard work and determination, blood, sweat, possibly tears, but you will be able to walk again Peter. The muscles around your spine are still somewhat swollen, which could be part of the problem, your nerves being pinched, but I have full confidence that you will be able to walk again. You're strong, you have determination, and you are the bravest kid I've ever had the pleasure to meet. If there's anyone with this kind of injury out there who could walk again, without assistance even, it'd be you Peter. I have faith in you." Peter gave her a grateful smile and the doctor bid her farewells and left the trio alone again.

"So, what'd I miss?"

"Nothing much."

"You know you don't have to pay for everything Tony," Peter said softly and May nodded in agreement.

"We appreciate it, we do, but you really don't have to do everything you've done, and have been doing. We'd figure something out."

"Let me just stop you right there. I want to help, and using my vast fortune to pay for hospital bills and therapy bills is about the only way I can think of helping."

"You're wrong."

"Sorry? Did I hear you correctly Peter, did you just say I was wrong?"

"Your money isn't the only way you've helped." Tony blinked in confusion, which caused Peter to groan in annoyance. "You've been there for me when I needed you. You helped me more than you think Tony, and you need to realize that who you are, and being who you are, being who you really are, is all I need from you. I don't need your money or fame or anything like that, I just need you, and May, and Ned, and MJ." Tony smiled at the kid before rolling his eyes.

"You've gone all soft on me kid."

"I think you're the one who's gone soft Mr. Stark." Tony was about to reply when Peter gave a soft sneeze.

"Awww it was like a little kitten."

"Oh shut up."


	13. Chapter 11

**Guess who's not dead yet! Me! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter, and I hope that there will be another one soon, but life is a thing so that's a problem. I will continue this story, so don't worry, it just might take a bit. Also, sorry if this chapter sucks (cause it probably does).**

"UGH!" A thud followed the frustrated exclamation as shaking legs gave out and the owner sank to the mats below the parallel bars.

"You can do this Peter, I believe in you. You've made amazing progress in just this past week alone. It's going to take effort, you just need to not let failure stop you." Peter, who was struggling to lift himself back up onto his currently useless legs, glared at the man, all the while scolding himself for doing so because Craig, his PT, was only trying to help.

It had been a week since he was released from the hospital, and since then, and prior, he's been confined to a wheelchair, with only his toes twitching ever so slightly. The only sign that he could walk again was those toe twitches, so he took the movement where he could get it. In all of his time mulling over physical therapy helping that twitching grow into him walking again, he never thought that it would be so, so painful and aggravating.

He cried out in annoyance as his hand slipped off the bar and he fell yet again. Craig wheeled the teen's chair over and helped Peter up into it. The man smiled, proudly, at the teen, patting him on the shoulder.

"You've made some real progress Peter, even if you feel you haven't. It's a miracle you're alive, and even more so you have feeling below your waist. The fact that in mere weeks you were released from the hospital and have made it to the point where you can stagger a few small steps with support is astounding, and something to be extremely proud of my friend."

"Listen Craig, I know you're trying to make me feel better, but it's not working, so you can just stop." Peter flinched at his stinging tone, but Craig, being the wonderful human he was, merely laughed and pushed Peter's chair through the door of the room and towards the lobby.

"Same time in a couple days? I mean, I would say tomorrow, but of course, you need some time to rest and recoup. Plus, you can practice your exercises in the meantime. You will practice right? I mean, you do want to get better tough guy, so I'd recommend it."

Tony was waiting out front for the teen when Craig came wheeling him out. The billionaire smirked at the pair. Craig, a heavily muscled, dark-skinned veteran, scolding a scrawny teen like a mother scolding a child was quite the sight.

"How'd he do today Craig?"

"Well, Pete doesn't seem very pleased, but I sure am with the progress he's making. I bet he'll be up on his feet and walking no problem within months. I'll see him back here in two days, same time. In the meantime, he's supposed to be doing some exercises that I gave him, so if you wouldn't mind making sure he actually does them, that'd be great."

"I can hear you you know!" Peter had managed to partially slide himself into the front seat of Tony's car, but was slowly sliding out, his chair wheeling away from him until he landed on the cement with an oof. Before Tony could help the kid, Craig scooped him up and helped him get situated in the car, folding up the chair and placing it in the trunk.

"I don't know how I could thank you Craig. I mean, you've helped Peter so much, and it's been a week."

"Don't thank me until I keep my promise of helping Peter get back on his feet. Hell, all the thanks I need is seeing Peter be able to walk again, even if it is assisted. That's ever the only thanks I need. I just want to help my patients the way that someone helped me."

"Well, you are the best of the best here in New York and I have to say, this facility of yours, it's impressive."

"Isn't she? Hardwork and perseverance. Two things that do wonders. I just wanted to give back, and this was the best way I saw fit. You have a nice day now Tony, and I will see you both back in two days."

"Both?"

"I'd like to try something with Peter. He keeps getting in his head and it's not helping him. I think that you being there as a way of encouragement might get him out of his head just enough. Right now, the biggest obstacle is his own mind. It's something you have to overcome and conquer before you can improve. You should try reminding him that he may not ever be 100%, but just being able to walk, even assisted, should be taken as a huge improvement, and something miraculous. You have a nice day Tony."

"You too Craig. Oh, and if you ever need any help, just give me a call."

"Thank you Tony, it appreciated, but not necessary. Remind Peter to do his exercises."

"Will do."

The car ride back to the upstate facility was uneventful. Little was said past pleasantries, and it was merely spent with Tony shooting Peter worried glances while Peter stared wistfully out the window.

Peter snapped at Tony when the man attempted to push his chair, but had to relent control when his body gave out from his intense PT session taking its toll. As soon as the pair entered the building, Peter wheeled into his room, the door sliding shut behind him, leaving Tony to wander into the living area, confused.

"Trust the kid Tony," called a voice from the couch. Tony turned to find Rhodey sitting, legs propped up on the table in front of him, TV volume turned down so the two could talk. "It's a lot to deal with, especially for someone like him. I mean, me falling and getting injured, that was something that I factored in as a possible outcome. Sure it sucked, but I knew what I needed to do, and what I could do. That kid, well, he went to school, came out paralyzed, at least somewhat. Can you even imagine that Tony?"

"No, not really."

"He's a restless teen who was living his life, and suddenly everything was thrown into the air, getting tossed and shuffled, before it all falls back down to earth. Something's got to break on impact. Sometimes it's physical, other times it's emotional. Right now, the kid needs time to cool off. Give him space, give him time to come to terms with it all. Give him time to grieve."

"It's been weeks."

"Yeah, only weeks. There isn't a set time frame for coming to terms with everything that's happened. I mean, he still has nightmares about what happened. Just because he has hope, doesn't negate the negativity floating around him. If you want, I could talk to him, just to give him someone who can relate, to talk to."

"He won't talk to me at all, just shuts me out. What am I doing wrong Rhodey? I mean, I'm trying, but nothing works."

"Well, give me a chance to talk to him, then I'll let you know what I know, if he won't mind. Just be patient man. I know it's not your strong suit and you've literally invented an element because you were impatient, but just give it a try, for the kid."

"Fine, but he better talk to you. He's already driven away about three different therapists, how, I'm not actually sure. All I know is they won't come back, or even call back."

"That's actually kind of impressive, but give me a shot. I'll be back."

Tony watched his best friend stand and stand walking towards Peter's room, leg braces helping all the way.

"Peter? Hey bud, can I come in." Rhodey knocked on the door, wondering if it was okay if he went in without permission, when the door slid open, shutting with a hiss behind him. Peter was lying on his floor, staring at the ceiling, wheelchair against a wall, away from him.

"Hey Mr. Rhodes."

"Peter, you know you can call me Rhodey, or James, or anything but Mr. Rhodes. I mean, it makes me sound like a schoolteacher."

"Okay." Rhodey sat on the edge of Peter's bed with a slight grunt and looked down at the blank-faced teen.

"What's up Peter?"

"Nothing."

"I doubt that. What's running through your mind right now?"

"Everything."

"What everything? Any particular thing stand out?"

"I dunno."

"Alright, you know what, you need to talk to me here Peter, I'm just trying to help you."

"I don't want your help, I don't need your help," Peter said, before softly adding, "I don't deserve your help." Rhodey sighed, easing himself onto the floor beside Peter, but remaining seated. Peter's eyes darted to Rhodey, but then went right back to the ceiling. His hands were folded on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took.

"Pete, what's going on in your mind? Why do you think you don't deserve help?"

"I couldn't save them." So that's what this is about.

"You did everything you could Peter, there was no way you could have saved everyone, it was statistically improbable." Peter sighed, turning his head towards Rhodey, and the man could only remember flashes of his time during combat where eighteen and nineteen year olds would be returning from firefights, bad ones, eyes glazed over, faces emotionless, looking as though they've aged decades beyond their years. That same look was on this fifteen year old's face, the dead eyes, the broken pieces of hope behind the sorrow. This kid had dealt with so much in his short life and it wasn't fair.

"Kid."

"I shouldn't have survived."

"No, Peter, you-"

"No, everyone keeps saying it's a miracle that I survived, that I should have been dead, or at very least, paralyzed to the point where I shouldn't even have feeling below my waist. I'm not supposed to be alive, and yet somehow, here I am."

"Peter, you're alive because you have a life to live, your whole life ahead of you."

"What about the others? Did they not have lives to live? People who loved them? Cared for them? I mean, I'm just some nerd in the background of my high school who has two whole friends. I have those two friends and my aunt, and that's it. My life isn't exciting, it's not great, it's not worth living," Peter said, the last part in a wavering whisper as his attention turned back to the ceiling, his breaths becoming shaky.

Rhodey didn't want to say anything. Peter was finally talking about what was going on with him, and the man wasn't going to stop the kid from getting stuff off his chest. He needed it. Peter gave a humorless chuckle.

"I told Tony that'd I'd let him know when everything hit me, but I didn't. I lied to him. Everything just kind of came crashing down, shattering as it hit pavement. I'm trying to pick up the pieces, put it back together, but there's so many, and their so small, and I keep making it worse every time, each piece cutting my hands. I need help, but I don't want Tony to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this. I mean, I don't think people even know I'm alive, or at least out of the hospital. MJ and Ned keep trying to call, but I can't bring myself to answer the phone. May keeps trying to find a reason to visit, but I can't put all this on her plate too. She's dealt with too much already, I'd just be a burden on her. I keep coming up with reasons to not have her visit."

"If you don't want anyone to see you like this, why are you telling me?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you understand what it's like to lose something you've been so used to for so long, and suddenly it's just gone and you're stuck trying to pull yourself back up out of the hole you fell in? I dunno."

"Hey kid, don't go shutting up on me yet. We're getting somewhere. If you're comfortable talking with me, that's good. I'm good with it if you are. I don't even have to tell Tony anything if you don't want me too."

"Part of me is saying that I really don't want anything to leave this room, but if you could maybe ask if Tony would want to talk so I could apologize for being a jerk?" Rhodey smiled and patted the kid on the shoulder.

"Sure kid," he said standing, walking to the door, but before leaving, he turned back to Peter. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you on the floor?" Peter blushed red and gave a short, sheepish laugh.

"I kind of fell trying to get onto my bed and just gave up because the floor was comfy."

"Would you like me to help you onto your bed? And move the chair closer?"

"If you don't mind," Peter said in a squeaky, embarrassed voice. Rhodey rolled his eyes with a chuckle before helping the stubborn teen onto the bed, making sure he was comfortable, before going to send Tony in.

Peter spent the time he had from when Rhodey left until Tony walked in trying to figure out what he was going to say. Turns out, he didn't even really need too. As soon as Tony walked in and sat on Peter's bed, the teen burst into tears and the pair hugged, Peter clutching Tony as if the man was a lifeline, and Tony trying to comfort the sobbing teen.

"I'm so sorry Tony, I'm so sorry. I've been a jerk and I broke the promise to tell you when it hit me and it did and I've been so mean and I'm sorry."

"It's okay kid, you're okay."

"No, I'm not."

"Then I'll help you until you are."

"Thank you."

 **Hey, so, it's kind of short, but I guess it's something right? I'm super sorry that it's taken so long to update, but school sort of hit me hard you know? That and shit's been going down and life, well, life is life. I hope to be updating kind of soonish, but don't take my word for it, I'm really bad at keeping up with myself.**

 **I hope this chapter was acceptable and not too horrendous. Please let me know if it was okay or not, I love love love feedback from you guys.**

 **So, if you feel the need, review, favorite, follow. I love seeing people like my stories, it's a good point in my life.**

 **Peace my peeps.**


	14. Chapter 12

**Shit my peeps, this took way too long to update. I'm super super super super sorry, but life is a shit hole. School's a bitch, and I lost not one, but two beloved pets in the span of two weeks, one of whom I'd grown up with and was my best friend. I've been dealing with that, and other mental health issues that have prevented me from actually sitting down to be productive. Hopefully now that it's summer, I'll have a little more free time to do some quality writing. This chapter ain't my best work, and I really hope that you guys think it's okay. I feel really bad for taking so long, and I would say that I promise to update sooner, but honestly, I have no idea. I will finish this story though, even if it kills me.**

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Flash shifted nervously, fidgeting with his jacket sleeve as his mother pulled up in front of Midtown High, putting the car in park. It had been three weeks since the shooting, and it was his first day back. Technically, it was everyone's first day back, but Flash, and anyone else who was directly involved with everything could have gotten more time. Peter was released from the hospital with an almost clean bill of health. Or at least that's what Flash overheard from Peter's nerd friend Ned, and MJ, as they spoke, walking into the school. The teen was just getting out of the car when the pair walked by, sparing him a glance before continuing walking.

"Thanks for the ride Mom," Flash called with a falsely cheerful tone.

"Are you sure you're okay to go back hun?" Flash rolled his eyes.

"Yes Mom, I'm fine. You can go now."

"Love you," his mother called as he shut the door, the window cracked slightly.

"Love you too," he called back as he spun around to face the school. Taking a deep breath in and letting it go, he started forward like a dead man walking. As soon as he entered the building, he could hear the whispers start and he could feel the stares following him as he moved to his locker. Flash always loved being the center of attention, but now it felt so wrong. Grabbing the locker harshly, feeling anger towards everyone, he nearly slammed the locker shut and exploded at the people, but suddenly there were two people at his side. Peter's two friends, well, friend and acquaintance.

"Sup Flash. Peter's out of the hospital now, in case you cared," MJ said, leaning against the lockers, looking bored with everything.

"Yeah, apparently he's healed enough to go home, but he's staying at the Tower with Mr. Stark cause he actually has a working elevator and Peter's apartment building doesn't." Flash winced at the reminder that Peter probably wouldn't be the same for a while, if ever.

"No thanks to you, of course," MJ said, a hint of venom in her voice, and Ned hissed her name in warning. "I mean, I know no one really knows what happened in that room, but I could guess that Peter's all fucked up because he was trying to save your ass," MJ said angrily, poking Flash in the chest with her finger.

"MJ! Stop," Ned said harshly and the girl huffed before dropping her finger, still glaring at Flash.

"That's what I thought. I really hope you quell some of these rumors, hopefully all of them, by doing some sort of publicity stunt. Go on social media, post a video, get an interview at a radio or TV station cause everyone knows how badly they want the story. I'm actually surprised no one was swarming us when we walked in."

"I will, I was actually planning on it. I owe Peter my life, and more. I couldn't ever repay him, so it'd be the least I could do."

"You better."

"I will, swear. I don't care how bad it makes me look. I've heard a lot of the rumors and they suck. Plus I'm really tired of people asking me what happened, or coming up and telling me how brave I was. I feel like a fraud," Flash said, deflating.

"Cause you are," MJ snapped before walking away briskly, Ned mouthing 'sorry' at Flash before quickly catching up to the furious girl. Flash groaned and slammed his head against the lockers. It was going to be a long day.

His classes for the day weren't even classes, they were basically 'circle time' as everyone fondly dubbed it. Everyone in class would get in a big circle and the teacher would lead them in questions and such and people would go around and say what they thought. It was stupid. Flash never spoke during these times, and the teachers didn't ever force him to. It was in his last class of the day, Social Psych, that he actually spoke up.

Everyone loved Social Psych because the teacher was amazing. She was a kind lady who took and gave absolutely no bullshit. She was insanely understanding about mental health and her policy was if you needed to not do anything, she wouldn't make you. There were never any tests or quizzes and rarely any homework, only if you didn't finish in class. Probably everyone's favorite part was her policy on napping. She figured that if you fell asleep, you probably needed it, so she wouldn't wake you or punish you in any way. Everyone loved the class.

Flash sat on the ground on a beanbag chair with everyone else either on the floor, in a random comfy chair, or on a similar beanbag to Flash. Even the teacher, Mrs. Moders, was reclined in a bean bag.

"Alright, so I know that we're supposed to do circle time, or whatever the hell it is, but to be completely honest, I think it's bullshit. All of these questions are so singular and unemotional. I don't think any of these questions are very helpful at all, so we're not going to use them. Plus, I think you've heard them enough for today." Everyone cheered, but Flash remained silent, watching the clock for when they could leave.

"What are we going to do then Mrs. Mod?"

"We're going to talk." Everyone groaned. "But not in the way you think. We're going to stay in this circle, but I just want everyone to talk about what's running through their mind's right now, in this moment. What happened here weeks ago was a traumatic event, I get this, and I know for a fact that everyone in this room should have some feelings about it. Man, I'm sounding way to close to the script. Just speak you mind, it's a safe space here. Nothing leaves this room, and by that I mean nothing. If someone breaks down, it stays in here. If someone confesses something, it stays in here. Anything you hear or see stays in this room between us."

"I'm really scared and it's been three weeks and I don't know why I'm still scared," a girl, Alyssa, calls out, sounding close to tears already. The mood had shifted through Mrs. Moders speech to one of sombre reflection.

"It's alright Alyssa, perfectly natural."

"I don't know how so many people can come back here and just act like nothing even happened. I mean, people died here, they were shot. We all came to school that day, expecting a normal day, and suddenly, we're fearing for our lives. I didn't sign up for this shit. This place isn't as safe as everyone else is fucking saying and it's so fucking annoying that people keep saying that it's fine now because it over, but it fucking isn't over!" A kid, Josh, all but shouted. Another thing everyone liked about Mrs. Moders was she didn't do anything if you swore. Excessively, yes, she would, but in cases like these, she'd let it slide.

"Exactly! Everyone keeps saying it's over now and everything is back to normal, but it isn't! We're all still dealing with it. Someone dropped their books in the hallway earlier and I nearly freaked out. I started hyperventilating and if my friend wasn't there, I probably would have had an anxiety attack," Jody, one of the girls who was near where the first shots went off, remarked. The atmosphere of the room was vibrating with anxiety and frustration.

"I hate the fact that they keep blaming Allen's mental health instead of also the fact that a kid was able to get his hands on a gun and shoot people with it. Like, what the fuck America?! What kind of society has such lax gun control that a kid who felt spited could easily get their hands on a semi-automatic and shoot up a place?" Rick, another kid close to the first shots, said, throwing his hands in the air. Flash was listening to everything people were saying, watching as they went about speaking, and noted how Mrs. Moders was also watching him.

"I think it's pretty fucked up that someone could feel so terrible in their own life to then take other people's lives and their own. I mean, of the people in the classroom, how many made it out? Two, and Parker was in critical for a while." There were mutterings of the rumors that had been floating around before Mrs. Mod shushed everyone, seeing how Flash was curling in on himself.

"Enough, everyone. I see that you're all familiar with the rumors floating around about what happened, but maybe we should air on the side of caution when one of those two survivors is in this room," she said passive-aggressively, though there was a warning in her words for those who heard. "Flash, would you like to speak?"

"Peter wasn't running away," he said softly, and continued after seeing how everyone turned to look at him. Sitting up straighter, Flash started playing with his jacket sleeves again. "Peter wasn't the coward, I was."

"Flash," Mrs. Mod started, but Flash didn't letter continue.

"Allen wanted me dead, me, and Peter got shot trying to talk Allen down, to save me. He saved my life and got shot because of it. He wasn't the coward, he was the hero, the brave one. I was the coward, trying to get away. If Peter wasn't there, if he, I would be," Flash stammered, feeling tears spilling from his eyes, but no one commented on them.

"So Parker saved your life? But, you'd always mess with him? Why would he do that?"

"I don't know okay?! He's just a self-sacrificing asshole who saved my life for some reason."

"Is he okay?"

"He was released from the hospital this week, nearly perfect health."

"What's wrong with him?" A girl whispered, but Flash wasn't sure who. Mrs. Moders glared in the direction.

"Flash, you don't have to answer if you're not comfortable, and who knows if Peter's comfortable with people knowing his status," Mrs. Mod stated, basically telling Flash to shut up. "Alright class, let's shift away from Peter and Flash, and get back to our own feelings on the matter instead of getting personal."

The discussion continued until the final bell rang and everyone got up to leave, Flash nearly sprinting out of the school and to his Mom's car.

"Not so good?" Flash shook his head as his Mom pulled away from the curb.

"No."

"You still up to give that interview?"

"Yeah. I got it."

"Good, because Johnny's expecting you."

The two drove to the news station, parked, and walked in. Flash's mom kept a grounding hand on his shoulder the whole time they were ushered around, told what was going to happen, and getting ready.

"Alright, and go in three, two," the camera man said before a red light blinked on and Johnny, the new anchor, started.

"Good afternoon Queens. I'm Johnny here with another guest interview tonight. Now, we all know of the shooting that occurred at Midtown High School of Science and Technology three weeks prior to today, and our thoughts and prayers still go out to the families of those who have lost someone, as well as the family of Peter Parker, who was gravely injured in the shooting. Tonight, we have a guest on who will be recounting his experiences first-hand. No one knows the full story, so hopefully, with his insight, we can glean a bit more knowledge into what happened that day. Eugene Thompson, thank you for joining me today."

"Thanks Johnny, you can call me Flash, everyone does," Flash said, feeling extremely self-conscious. He adjusted the neck of his shirt, feeling really warm under the studio lighting.

"Alright then Flash. So why now? Three weeks after the shooting?"

"Well, today was the first day back for everyone, and I've needed some time to think over what I would say."

"If you don't mind me asking, but what did happen in that room? Stories vary widely all over social media and through word of mouth. What's your story?"

"My story is pretty simple. I was a bully, I bullied Allen, I bullied Peter, I bullied a lot of kids. I never really thought about what I was doing, and I feel even worse that it took something like this for me to actually want to change what I've been doing. I was in the room, same as everyone else, when Allen walked in and shot Ms. Elis with his gun. He didn't even flinch. I was terrified, everyone was. Allen was pointing his gun at me, a pistol, forced me to stand. I thought I was dead right there, pretty sure I was crying," Flash said with a shaky laugh before clearing his throat.

"You don't have to continue if you don't feel comfortable Mr. Thompson."

"No, I'm good, I have to. I was pretty sure I was dead right there, but then Peter stood and put himself between the gun and I. He pushed me behind him and stared Allen dead in the eyes, almost daring him to shoot. I didn't understand how he didn't flinch, still don't. I was shaking, pretty sure I am now just thinking about it, but Peter, he just put himself in the path of a bullet to save me. He convinced Allen to let everyone go. Allen agreed, but wanted me to stay behind. Parker, for some reason, said that he was staying if I was staying. I'd swear he had no self-preservation and a death wish. Everyone left, but Isaac, he was just there all of a sudden and Allen reacted and then Isaac, well, he was, he was dead too. Allen blamed Peter for distracting him, but Peter still stayed between us." Flash could feel himself shaking. Johnny handed him a bottle of water, which Flash was grateful for.

"I apologize if this is asking too much, but with all the rumors floating around, a lot are centered around Peter Parker trying to run and that's what got him shot. What happened from you point of view?"

"Peter wasn't a coward, he never tried to run. He had multiple opportunities, but no, he stayed and even tried to talk Allen down, multiple times. He stood there, between Allen and I, trying to talk sense into Allen, who was holding a gun leveled at Parker's head. I was hiding behind Peter, a kid who I'd bullied for years, who was for some reason saving me. He told Allen that'd he'd have to shoot him to get to me. I don't even know how Peter reacted so fast, but I heard the gun go off as Peter shoved me out of the way. My head hit a desk and I was knocked out so I'm not sure what happened during the time I was unconscious. All I know is that when I woke up, Peter was leaning against the shelves, a hole in his chest. He was still trying to help Allen, and this was the kid who shot him. Parker is insane, and the bravest, and possibly stupidest, person I know. I watched Peter, bleeding out, trying to talk Allen down from killing himself. We all know the ending."

"That was, quite the story Mr. Thompson, thank you. Is there anything more you'd like to add?"

"Peter Parker was not a coward, I was. I was terrified for my life and froze; I thought I was dead. Peter saved my life, and nearly died doing so. If anyone has anything they'd like to say against Peter, they can personally say it to my face. I'm not threatening, I'm just saying, I'm not lying, and I was not put up to this. Telling my side of the story, and telling the truth about what happened, is the closest I can get to paying Peter back for what he did for me, and even this is barely anything. Thank you Peter, if you're listening. And screw whoever thinks Peter's a coward. He's the bravest person I know."

"Alright, thank you Flash for your time. That's all the time we have for today, see you tomorrow." The red light blinked off as Flash stumbled away from the chair he was seated in and towards his mom, who hugged him tightly.

"Feel better hun?"

"You have no idea."

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 **Like I said in the above notes, I would promise faster updates, but then I may end up breaking the promise (though I don't know how not updating half a year later would be any worse than this shit storm). I apologize yet again for the extremely belated update, and hopefully, hopefully, I'll be better in the future. I also need to learn how to plan things out before I write, cause this just was a random spew of words that happened. Let me know if you thought it was okay in the comments, or leave some kudos! Whatever my peeps, just let me know what you like or don't like, I'm open to criticism (plus happy comments and other praise comments sincerely make my day, week, month, even year, especially the ones where I can tell you really enjoyed my writing).**

 **Later my peeps.**

 **Seen you soon (hopefully).**


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